For Rent
by me19
Summary: Thanks to Blaise Zabini, 26 year old Draco Malfoy has to pretend to be married to a Muggle-born witch in order to secure a business deal. Who's the best Muggle-born witch for the job? Why, Hermione Granger of course!
1. The Plan

A/n: I told myself that I wouldn't start on a new story because finals are just around the corner and school is getting more difficult.  But when a story hits you, you just gotta write.  Well I was watching ABC Family Channel, for all you Americans out there with cable, and this movie came on called "Borrowed Hearts."  It reminded me of Draco and Hermione that I had to write another fan fiction.  I won't tell you what happens, because that'll just ruin my story.  Read and find out.  So I "borrowed" the plot, added Draco and Hermione, and made it my own.  And now, on to "For Rent." 

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, you know that.  The plot is based on the movie "Borrowed Hearts."   All I own are Ana Granger and Monsieur Deville.  

Chapter 1 The Plan 

"And thank you for my mum and dad," little Ana Granger said.  "Wherever he is."  She opened her eyes to find everyone at the table not looking at her, but at her mom sitting right next to her.  She lifted her head to look at her mom as well.  Her mom gave her a half smile, making her smile as well.

"Well," cut in Ron Weasley, "who's ready for turkey?"

Ana and Hermione Granger were at the Burrow, spending the monthly "Weasley Dinner" with all nine of them plus their extended families.  Ever since all seven of the Weasley children from Bill to Ginny moved out and started their own families, Molly and Arthur had missed a house full of children and so decided to hold monthly dinners to bring the whole family back together.  Along with their children and their spouses and offspring, Hermione and Ana were always invited to these dinners as honorary Weasleys.  That month, the honor of leading prayer fell upon little Ana Granger.  She thanked everyone from their cat Crookshanks to Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry, and ultimately to her mother and father.

Hermione smiled at Ron, mouthing 'Thank you.'  He smiled back at her and winked just before digging into his food.  The moment was awkward, to say the least, but thankfully Ron helped to ease the slight tension.

*~*

Draco Malfoy sat at the head of the dinning table, alone as usual.  Ever since his father's death and his mother's loss of sanity, Draco had inherited the Malfoy company and fortunes.  He had thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of Gringotts vaults filled from the floor to the ceiling with galleons.  He had people at his beck and call.  He was the richest and most sought after bachelor in the whole of wizarding England, a fact proven by Witch Weekly's article "The 100 Hottest Bachelors."  He had the looks and charm to get just about any girl he wished.  He had everything.

But it was times like these, eating another dinner alone with only the two maids, his one butler, and a team of house elves around the Manor, that he wished he had a family to share all his riches with.

 *~*

"Give Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron a kiss before we leave, love," Hermione told her daughter as Ana smiled at her and ran after Ron and Harry.

She was still smiling as Ginny came up to her.  "You ok, Mione?" she asked tentatively, draping an arm around the older woman's shoulders.

Hermione turned to her best girl friend, and the new Mrs. Potter, and raised an eyebrow.  "I'm not a porcelain doll, Gin.  I'll live."

Ginny Potter laughed as she shook her head.  "I know but…"

"I'm fine," Hermione interrupted, stepping out of her friend's arms.  "Stop worrying about me.  You're married now Gin, worry about your husband.  You and I both know that he needs plenty tlc, tender loving care."  They both laughed as Ana came running back to Hermione.

"You ready to go, honey?" Hermione asked as she carried her five-year-old daughter in her arms.  Ana bobbed her head up and down.  Hermione said her thank yous and goodbyes to the whole Weasley family before grabbing some floo powder and stepping into the Weasley fireplace.  Because Hermione never liked to apparate with her daughter, it was too risky, she flooed back to her flat from the Burrow.

*~*

The bright sun crept through the blinds and half awakened Hermione Granger.  It was the Monday after the Weasley dinner.  It was also the first day of December, signaling the official start of the Christmas season.

She finally opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings.  She lived with her daughter in a one bedroom flat in London.  Imagine, the pride and joy of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, living paycheck to paycheck in a one bedroom flat with a five-year-old child.

Her daughter slept peacefully in the bed next to hers.  Her daughter, the joy of her life, the apple of her eye, the light in her darkness, and everything else a mother would call their child.  She had sandy blonde hair, wavy and tamer than her mother's.  She had dark blue eyes, with flecks of gold as well.  She was a beautiful child.   

Hermione rolled out of bed and got ready for her job working as the supervisor at Ready for Wear, one of the Malfoy family's many businesses.  The pay wasn't all that great; it paid for her rent and just the basic essentials, with a few galleons to spare.  With her knowledge, Hermione Granger could've gotten a better job, but with her daughter she couldn't risk leaving her stable career at Ready for Wear to take a risk in the fickle business world.

After taking a quick shower, Hermione leafed through her closet for something to wear.  With her hair wrapped in a towel, Hermione chose a black knee length skirt with a white button up oxford shirt.  After dressing and putting her usually wild curly locks into a low bun, Hermione looked like the oldest twenty six year old ever.

"Ana sweetie," she cooed as she softly nudged her daughter to wake up.  Ana opened an eyelid only to promptly close it again.  Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Ana, love, it's time for school."

She slowly opened both her eyes and smiled at her mum as she, with the help of Hermione of course, got ready to spend the day at school.

After dropping off Ana at her muggle school, Hermione apparated to Ready for Wear, an apparel shop in Diagon Alley.

"Morning Mione," Julie Brown, her coworker and friend, greeted her as she walked into the store.  Julie was a very attractive witch, standing at a towering 5'9" to Hermione's 5'4" stature.  She was black and like Hermione, Julie had natural curly brown locks.  To sum it up, she resembled Scary Spice from the Spice Girls. 

"Morning Julie, how was your weekend?" asked Hermione as she stepped around the counter to join her friend in the back room.  Their friendly chatter went on as the other workers arrived, ready for the rush that was sure to follow.

And they were right, Ready for Wear was filled with young adults wanting to get a head start on their Christmas shopping.  It was the longest and busiest day for Hermione Granger.

*~*

"So tell me, Malfoy," Blaise Zabini said as he reclined in Draco's chair and propped his feet on his desk at the main office of Malfoy Industries.  "How was your weekend?  Any new conquests?"  He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Draco.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he watched his business associate getting comfortable in _his_ chair.  "What do you think?" he stated.  He walked over to his desk as Blaise smirked and chuckled.

"I see," Blaise replied, fumbling around on Draco's desk like it was his own.  After a few seconds of closing and opening drawers, Blaise stopped his rummaging as his hand glided over a smooth wooden box.  _Ah_ thought Blaise, _so this is where Malfoy keeps his Cuban cigars_.  Blaise was only allowed to lift the lid about an inch before Draco's hand came down and snapped the lid back shut.

"You touch those again Zabini and I'll make sure to recommend you to Mrs. File," Draco smirked as he watched Blaise back down and his eyes grow larger.  Mrs. File was a close friend of the Malfoy family.  She had been trying for years to wed her dear daughter Zoë off to Draco.  But poor Zoë was just South of ugly and boring.  Basically, she resembled Hagrid with the personality of a doorknob.  _No_ Draco thought, _doorknobs are more exciting_.  "And get your bloody arse out of my chair."

"No need to get your knickers in a bunch Malfoy," Blaise responded as he stood up and walked to his blonde haired friend.

Malfoy opened his mouth to respond when a buzz from the fireplace caught his attention.

"Mr. Malfoy?" a voice called out.

"Yes Doris," Draco responded, sitting down in _his_ chair.  Blaise took a seat across from him.

"Monsieur Deville is on the line," came the reply.

"Put him through," replied Draco as he looked at Blaise hesitantly.  Blaise just shrugged his shoulders.

The face of Pierre Deville, the Frenchman who owned the robe shops Gladrags, appeared in the fire as Draco's assistant, Doris, disappeared.

"Ah bonjour Monsieur Malfoy.  I'm sure Monsieur Zabini has informed you of my plans regarding our deal, has he not?" Mr. Deville asked in his thick French accent.

"Yes Blaise has told me about it," Draco responded.

"Ah oui, so before we draw up the contracts, I'll be staying with you and your family for a few days.  See you soon Monsieur Malfoy, and I can't wait to meet your lovely wife and child.  Au revoir."  And just like that, his face disappeared.

Draco stared at the fire before realization hit him.  Wife and child?  What the…he turned his gaze to Blaise, who was whistling and looking everywhere but Draco.

"Blaise," he asked in that creepy calm voice of his, the one signaling the calm before the storm.  "Why did Monsieur Deville say that he couldn't wait to meet my nonexistent wife and kid?"

"Well…" started Blaise, his eyes shifting from both sides of him.

"Start talking Zabini" demanded Draco as he glared at his raven-haired associate.

Blaise sighed.  "It's like this Malfoy," he started as he finally turned his eyes towards the blonde, "Monsieur Deville is a sucker for families.  So, in order to secure the deal, I kind of…" he drifted off looking down at his hand.

"Spit it out Zabini."

"All right, all right.  I kind of stretched the truth and told him you were happily married and had a kid," he said hurriedly.

"What?!" Draco's voice boomed throughout the office making Blaise wince in his seat.  Draco was fighting to keep calm.  He was trying very hard not to throw Blaise Zabini out the window of his fifty-first floor office.

"Now Draco I did this for you," Blaise responded timidly as he got out of his chair, as far away from Draco as possible.

Draco closed his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.  _Breathe Malfoy.  It wouldn't do well for the deal if I were found guilty of the murder of one Blaise Zabini.  _After a few moments of taking deep breaths and thinking through it once more, Draco finally opened his eyes and smirked at the dark haired man standing near the door.

"And how, pray tell Blaise, will people believe that 'Bachelor of the Year' Draco Malfoy is married and has a child?" he asked as he lifted a brow.  Blaise just merely chuckled as he walked back to his seat.

"Simple Draco.  We just tell people that you value your privacy, especially when it deals with your family and personal life." Responded a beaming Blaise.

Draco just rolled his eyes.  On one hand, this plan was ridiculous.  But on the second, it could just guarantee Malfoy Industries the deal that it so desperately needed with Gladrags.  "Fine, fine.  Let's contact Pansy Parkinson.  We'll make plans to find a child and learn how to act like a 'loving' family.  It'll only be for a few days anyway."

"Um Malfoy," Blaise started, looking awfully timid once again.  Draco just lifted a blonde eyebrow.

"Monsieur Deville has a soft spot for Muggles."

"And?"

"And I told him that you were married to a Muggle-born witch."

*~*

"Thanks again Harry and Gin," Hermione said as she sat down on the couch in the Potter's living room waiting for her daughter to put on her shoes and her coat.  After school, Ana would either go to her grandparent's house or to Harry and Ginny's flat while her mother worked.  Because Ginny was "in between jobs," as she so liked to call it, she stayed home most of the day and "worked" as babysitter for Ana after school.  Ginny, like her mother, had a knack with children, a trait Harry was surprisingly oblivious to.

Ana Granger liked staying with her Uncle Harry and her Aunt Ginny, as well as her Uncle Ron and Aunt Lavender.  She enjoyed watching them as they exchanged simple gestures of love, wondering, not for the first time, where her dad was.  For as long as Ana could remember, it had always been just her and her mum.  She knew that she had a dad somewhere, because every little boy or girl had two parents, but whenever she would ask her mum, she would always just smile at her and change the subject.

That day, her Aunt Ginny told her that if she was a really good girl and if she wished long and hard enough, then someone up there might hear her and might just grant her wish.  Ana didn't know where exactly 'up there' was, but that didn't bother her.

"I wish my daddy could just come home," she had whispered to no one in particular.

Now her and her mum were stepping into the fireplace, getting ready to floo back to their home.  As soon as they stepped out of their fireplace, Ana ran to the bedroom while Hermione just smiled and headed over to the kitchen to start dinner.

After they ate dinner, Hermione asked about Ana's day and how she liked staying with the Potters.

About half an hour later, Hermione was tucking her daughter into bed.  Just as she was about to turn off the lights, Ana asked a question that made Hermione's heart quicken and made her freeze on her spot.

"Can you-can you tell me about daddy, mum?" came the soft question.

Hermione turned back to her daughter.  Of course keeping the details of her own father from her was stupid and a tad bit silly, Hermione just couldn't bring herself to talk about him.  And she still couldn't.

"Ana, love, I don't think-"

"Mum, please," she interrupted, eyes pleading.

Hermione sighed.  She should've known that she couldn't keep Ana in the dark about her father forever.  But Hermione just wished that she could talk to Ana about her father when she was older, but now's a good a time as any.

"Well," she began as she walked towards her daughter.  She sat down at the head of her daughter's bed as Ana snuggled closer to her.  She cradled her as she played with her sandy blonde locks.  "Your father is a famous Quidditch player…"

*~*

Draco stood there, with a blank expression on his face.  Pretending he was married to Pansy, ok yes he could do that.  Pretending he was a father, yes he could do that as well.  But pretending he was married to a Mudblood, there are just some things a Malfoy won't do.  Although the Dark Lord had been defeated a few years back and the whole Pureblood-Mudblood thing had died with him, Draco still couldn't see himself harboring any romantic feelings, much less marrying, a Muggle-born witch.

"No," he said in an oddly calm voice.  He was glaring at Blaise, wishing that looks could kill.

"Oh come on Malfoy.  We, Malfoy Industries, need this," Blaise stated imploringly.

"Then you marry a Mudblood," he shot back

"I'm already married Malfoy," he replied, smiling faintly at the mention of his wife.

"Yes give my regards to the poor soul, but I suggest you leave before she is made a widow," Draco said as he stood up, causing Blaise to rise as well.  He stepped in front of Draco, preventing him from taking another step.

"Draco, Malfoy Industries really needs this deal."

"Ready for Wear is doing fine as is," Malfoy countered, trying to side step Blaise.  "We don't need to sell to Gladrags."

"Malfoy," Blaise said as he stepped in front of his blonde haired boss once again.  "Yes I know Ready for Wear is booming right now, but think of what the company will gain if we sell to Gladrags."

Malfoy stopped.  Blaise did have a point.  It couldn't hurt to have a few more million galleons attached to the Malfoy name.  And it really wouldn't be that bad.  It would only be for a few days and as long as they chose a pretty enough witch, then everything would be fine.

He sighed.  "Fine Blaise, I agree.  On one condition, I get to choose my wife and child to be."

Blaise's face broke into a huge grin.  "Excellent.  I've taken the liberty of narrowing down a few possible Muggle-born witches for you who work in one of the many Malfoy businesses."

Draco waved a dismissive hand as Blaise dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

"I've based the order of my list according to beauty and brains, disregarding the child factor, that'll come later," Blaise informed him, handing Draco the list of names.

Draco rolled his eyes as he took it and unfolded it.  "And the lucky winner is…"

"Hermione Granger"

A/n: so how'd you like it so far?  Well yes I know all of you who read my other story are saying "Another 'Christmas' fic?" but yes that's how it was in the movie and that's how I'll keep it.


	2. The Plan in Action

A/n: While writing the first chapter of my story, I forgot one very important fact…the English don't celebrate Thanksgiving! Haha whoops…thanks annia for pointing that out to me.  So because of this revelation, I went back to the first chapter and revised it.  It didn't change the plot of the story, so those of you who read the previous one, you don't have to read the new version. Chapter 2 The Plan in Action 

"Hermione bloody Granger," Draco asked as he stared at the former Head Girl's name at the top of the list.  "You have got to be kidding me Zabini!  I mean this is Hermione Granger we're talking about.  I'm doubting your vision Zabini, because Granger has brains but last time I checked she sure as hell did not have beauty."

"When was the last time you've actually seen Hermione, Draco?" Blaise questioned.  "What?  The last day of seventh year?"

"And?" Draco replied.  "She couldn't have changed much."

"Oh believe me Malfoy, she has," Blaise said with a smirk.

"You're married"

"Your point?"

Draco just rolled his eyes.  _Hermione Granger, honestly.  There has to be another Muggle-born witch working for Malfoy Industries with more brains and beauty than Granger.  Wait…when has Granger been working for me?_

"Granger works for Malfoy Industries?" questioned Draco.  Blaise just rolled his eyes.  "When did that happen?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe four years ago?" answered Blaise.  "Honestly Draco it's sad how you don't even know your own employees."

"There are over a hundred thousand," shot back Draco.

"Yes and out of those hundred thousands, Granger here is number one," Blaise replied, guiding Malfoy back to his chair and desk.

"No I refuse to be married to Granger, regardless if its fake or not," Draco said as he sat down in his chair, resembling a five year old child at that moment.  Blaise took his seat across from Malfoy.  "We were enemies back at Hogwarts-"

"Exactly!" Blaise interrupted.  "You two have a history together, albeit a bad one but a history nonetheless.  Would you rather have to pretend to love a complete stranger or Granger?"

Draco sighed.  Blaise did have a point, damn him.  It would be easier with Granger, but still this was Hermione Granger they were talking about.

"She'll never agree," Draco said as he stared at her name once again at the top of Blaise's list.

"Oh she'll agree," Blaise responded, a smirk playing around his lips.  "Just leave it to me Malfoy."

"Do I even want to know?" Draco asked as Blaise sent him a saucy wink.  _No, I really don't_.  "Fine," Draco added with a defeated sigh, "convince Granger.  I doubt she'll agree, but you do have your ways Zabini, no matter how sick or twisted they are.  And may I remind you that you are married.  And," Draco held up a silencing hand as Blaise opened his mouth to retort to his previous statement, "there is still the issue about the kid."

"Another great thing about Granger, Malfoy," Blaise said as Draco raised an eyebrow at him, "she already has a child."

*~*

Hermione was regretting the talk that she had had with her daughter at the beginning of the week as she dropped off said child at school.  Yes Ana was ready to know about her father, but Hermione wasn't ready to tell her daughter about him.  Although he left about four years prior, it still felt fresh and new in her mind.  Talking to her daughter about her father felt like ripping off a bandage from a fresh wound.  Because that's what he was in her heart, a fresh wound.

She entered Ready for Wear a little distracted that morning.

"Got a visitor," came Julie's voice from behind the newest issue of Witch Weekly.  "In the back room," she said without even lifting her head.

Hermione thanked her and headed to the back curios us as to the identity of her visitor.  His back was turned to her, but she could tell from his robes that he was a very rich wizard.  His hair was jet black, reminding her of Harry's, although a bit more clean looking.  He turned around as Hermione placed her bag on the tabletop.  His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue.  He was smirking at her as she registered the young man's face.  He looked familiar, just like…

"Zabini?" she blurted out.  She brought a hand to her mouth and a slight pinkish tint colored her cheeks as she realized her mistake.  She may not have liked the git back at school, but he was very high up there at Malfoy Industries and he could fire her if he wanted.

He chuckled as he walked to her.  "Ms. Granger," he said as he stared deep into her eyes.  He took her hand and placed a kiss on it, not once breaking eye contact.  "How are you this fine December day?"

She stared at him, eyebrow raised, as he dropped her hand and took a step back.  "Pardon my asking Mr. Zabini, but what exactly can I help you with?"

_Ah straight to the point then_ he thought as the smirk returned to his face.  "No need to be so formal.  Granger."

"Zabini," she replied.

He shot her a toothy grin.  "Right, on to business.  I have a proposition…"

*~*

Ana was thinking about what her mum had told her for the past week.  Even though her mum had conveniently left out her father's name, she still told Ana many interesting things about him.  Her dad was a Quidditch Player!  Although only five and not really understanding the game all too much, because Quidditch is a pretty complex game, Ana still knew of some of the very famous Quidditch players.  Like Uncle Ron for one.  But he couldn't be her daddy.  He was married to Aunt Lavender and he had red hair and she didn't.

"Sweetie, lunch time," came her granddad's voice from the kitchen.  She smiled as she turned off the television and walked into the kitchen.  She thought about asking her grandmum and granddad about her father, but thought better of it.  So all Ana did was pray and wish and hoped that someone 'up there' was listening.

*~*

Draco paced around his study at Malfoy Manor.  Blaise was scheduled to arrive sometime that hour with news of his wife and child to be.  Doubts were running through his mind.  Why had he so easily agreed to "marry" Granger?  There was still time to find another Muggle-born witch, heck they had weeks.  And it wasn't the fact that Hermione Granger was a Muggle-born witch that really irked him, he wasn't as opposed to muggles as he used to be but he still believed that purebloods were superior to them, it was just the fact that she was…Hermione Granger.  He couldn't stand the annoying little Gryffindor back at Hogwarts, how would he be able to live her with her now?  They had shared a common room in their seventh year, head girl and boy privileges and all, but even then they weren't really _living_ with each other.  Now, they would actually have to _live_ with each other. 

But there were also advantages in this particular situation.  For one, he found out some very interesting facts about Head Girl Miss Hermione "always first in our year" Granger.  First, she worked for him, Draco Malfoy.  And if that wasn't good enough, Blaise revealed that Hermione already had a child, a five year old to be exact, at the tender age of twenty-six without ever marrying.  Who would've thought?

He decided, though, that he would stick with the original plan, Hermione Granger.  Yes she was an annoying "Know-it-all" back at school, but it would be only for two days anyway.

Draco stopped his pacing as the clock struck six pm.  "Where is that son of a-"

"Draco I didn't know you cared," came Blaise's voice from within the fireplace.  He was smirking at his blonde haired friend.

"Finally," Draco sighed, seating himself on a chair.  "Now get your bloody arse here right now."

"No can do," he replied.  "It seems that Granger agreed to the little plan."

"Oh?" Malfoy questioned with a raised eyebrow.  "And what do you have to do for her?  Or better yet, what do I have to do for her?"

"I'm appalled, Draco Malfoy," he responded with mock outrage, "that you'd actually believe I'd sell you out just to make a deal."

Draco just raised an eyebrow.

"Ok yes so maybe I would but that's besides the point," he said as Draco just chuckled.  "The point is I got her to agree, and without the use of illegal activities as well."

"Bravo Zabini, but why can't you get your arse here this instant?"

"Because I have to escort Granger and little Granger to the Manor.  Seeing as Malfoy Manor isn't located on any map, they'd have quite a time looking for it."

"Us Malfoys like our privacy," Draco responded defensively.

"Obviously," Blaise said while rolling his eyes.  "Anyway, expect myself, Granger, and Granger Jr. at the Manor in about thirty minutes."

"Yes, yes," Malfoy replied to no one in particular, seeing as Blaise had already disappeared from the fire.  _Well this should be a night_ he thought as he downed a shot of Fire Whiskey.

*~*

"Remind me again, Zabini, why I'm doing this?"  Hermione Granger looked at him skeptically as she took hold of her daughter's hand.  They were standing in the study of Blaise Zabini, ready to floo to Malfoy manor.

"Because I can fire you," he said simply as he closed the door to his study.

"You wouldn't" Hermione responded, outraged that he'd actually fire her for not doing this.  But then again this was Blaise Zabini.

"I would," he smirked at her as he took the bag of floo powder out of his desk.  "You can take the man out of Slytherin, but you can never take Slytherin out of the man."

She rolled her eyes as he threw the floo powder into the fireplace.  Blaise gestured her to go first.  Gripping her daughter's hand firmly, Hermione stepped into the fireplace.  In an instant Hermione and Ana found themselves in the study of Malfoy Manor.  A few moments later, Blaise stepped out of the fireplace as well.

Draco sat calmly at his desk as the clock struck 6:45 pm and a curly haired witch and her child stepped out of his fireplace.  He watched Hermione brush the soot off her and her daughter's clothing.

"Well I'll be damned," he whispered as Hermione looked up and Blaise stepped out of the fireplace.  _Blaise was right, damn him.  Granger has changed and surprise, surprise she does look nice.  _He eyed her body, glare still in tact, making sure to seem as if he was analyzing her instead of checking her out.  She was wearing a black turtleneck with some nice fitting blue jeans, and her normally pinned up curly locks were let down.  She was lovely, no doubt about that, but her look still screamed, "I'm a mother!"

Hermione turned to the person in the chair as she heard him mumble something.  She could tell that it was Malfoy because of his telltale white blonde hair.  Instead of the slicked back hairstyle that he had opted for for all of their years at school, it feel freely to just above his ears.  He still had the same piercing gray eyes though.  He was handsome, of what Hermione could see of him anyway, but he had always been good looking even back at Hogwarts.

"Ah Malfoy," Blaise said as he gracefully wiped the dirt from his robes.  "Yes well I do believe you remember our schoolmate Hermione Granger."  Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco raised an eyebrow and stood up from his seat.

He walked over to Hermione and smirked as he took her free hand, the other held by Ana, and placed a soft kiss on it.  Hermione immediately pulled her hand away and wiped it on her shirt.  He bent down in front of her, so he was now eye level with Ana.

"She's blonde," he stated as he looked to Hermione then to Ana again.

Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Yes Malfoy she's blonde, can't get anything pass you now can I?"  _Feisty_ he thought as he surveyed the little child in front of him.  She was smiling faintly at him, unsure exactly of what to do.  He was a stranger to her, but her mum knew him so that meant that she'd have to be polite.

"And she has blue eyes," he stated again as he looked back at Blaise.  He rose back on his feet as he smirked at Blaise.  "This just might work."

Feeling aggravated that she had no clue what was going on between Blaise and Draco, Hermione let out a grunt.  "What might work?  And can someone please tell me what my daughter and I are doing here?"

But Draco wasn't listening; he was staring at Hermione and her daughter.  "With a little work, Granger might actually look like a Malfoy."

"A Malfoy?  What?!" she interrupted, eyes wide.

"And her daughter.  Blonde hair, blue eyes, she'll be able to pass as my daughter."

"Your daughter?  Malfoy what is going on?" Hermione yelled, getting Draco's attention.  She wanted to floo out of there as soon as possible, she didn't want to be at Malfoy Manor for a longer time than necessary.  But Draco kept rambling on about looking like a Malfoy.  Obviously there was something Blaise left out when he told Hermione to be at his house with her daughter so they could meet with Malfoy to discuss "important business propositions."

Draco looked at Hermione then at Blaise, eyebrows furrowed.  _What is she talking about?_  Then realization struck.

"Zabini," they both said in unison as Hermione turned around to glare at the raven-haired wizard.

He winced.  Ok so maybe leaving out the part where Hermione would have to be Malfoy's wife for two days was not the smartest thing to do.  But honestly, how else would he have convinced her to come?

"So that's how she agreed," Draco said with a smirk.  Blaise scowled as he moved forward, standing next to Hermione and in front of Draco.  "You didn't tell her."

"Ok this is the last time I'll say it before I leave," Hermione cut in, looking at Draco then Blaise then back at Draco again.  "What?"

"It's like this," Blaise began, looking at Hermione.  "Monsieur Pierre Deville, owner of Gladrags, has proposed a business deal with us, but under one condition.  He'll be staying here with Draco for two days, in which he'll be able to spend some time with the young Malfoy and observe him to make sure that the head of Malfoy Industries is capable of running a business.  Now, because Monsieur Deville is a sucker for both families and muggles, I sort of told him that Draco was married to a Muggle-born witch and that they had a child together.  And that's where you, Ms. Granger, and your lovely child come in"

Hermione looked at Blaise then at Draco then at Blaise again.  _Are they mad?  Zabini's obviously off his rocker, and Malfoy has lost it if he's actually agreeing with this plan.  Those Slytherins, they're stark raving mad.  _Hermione was speechless, what was she supposed to say?  She still couldn't believe that two Slytheirns, two Slytherins who used to hate her and her friends mind you, were actually asking her to pretend to be Draco's wife.

Ana watched this whole scene play out with an aloof smile on her face.  She picked up words from the conversation like "married", "child", "wife" and other words that were important, well important to her anyway.  Her mum looked confused and enraged all together, but the two men looked at ease with a smirk on both their faces.  It couldn't have been that bad if they were smiling, but then why was her mum scowling?  Ana listened intently, wanting to know what exactly was going on.

"Let me get this straight," Hermione started, regaining the use of her voice.  "In order to make Malfoy Industries a lot richer, Malfoy has to rent-

"Borrow," Draco cut it.

Hermione glared at him.  "Rent my daughter and I for two days?"

"Basically," Blaise said, "yeah."

"No," Hermione spat out.  "My daughter and I are not for rent-"

"Granger don't be so stubborn-"

"You both are mad, the whole lot of you.  I would never-"

"Think about it Hermione-"

"There's nothing to think about!"  

"Hear us out first Hermione before-" 

"There's nothing you could possibly say that would make me change my mind," Hermione stated in a tone that suggested finality.  She turned around and started walking to the fireplace.  "Good day gentleman."

"Two thousand galleons," Draco spoke up.  Hermione was reaching for the floo powder when she heard the mention of money.  She froze instantly; she could really use that money.  "A thousand a day, come on Granger."

Draco smirked as he watched Hermione.  Sure he could find a willing Muggle-born witch that might do this for free, but Blaise was right, again…damn him.  He and Granger did have history together and she did have brains and beauty.  And what's two thousand galleons to a wizard that has just about everything?

Hermione turned around.  "Make it five thousand and you got yourself a deal."

"Five thousand?  You must be mad if you think I'll give you that amount for staying in my house for two days.  No."

"Fine," Hermione replied, turning back to the fireplace once again.  "Good day gentlemen."

"Ok, ok," he called out just as Hermione grabbed a handful of floo powder.  "Three thousand galleons, and that's all I'm offering."

She dropped the floo powder and smiled as she turned to face Blaise and Draco once more.  She looked down at her daughter, the smile on her face wavering slightly.  This deal did not just affect her, it affected Ana as well.  And it would have been selfish of Hermione to not include her daughter in the decision.

"Let me ask my daughter first," she said to Blaise and Draco as Draco waved a dismissive hand at her.  "Ana sweetie-"

"Mum take it!" her daughter cut in excitedly.  Ana didn't really understand why her mum constantly scowled or glared at the two men in front of her; to her they were nice gentlemen.  And they were offering her mum three thousand galleons for just living in the beautiful manor and pretending to be the nice blonde man's family for two days, why wouldn't she take it?

Hermione smiled at her daughter and looked back to the two men.  She walked to them and stopped just in front of Malfoy.

"Three thousand galleons"

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.  "Three thousand Granger"

"I don't have to go to work for those two days"

"Yes Granger you don't have to go to work"

A smile slowly crept up her face.  "All right.  You've got yourself a deal Malfoy," she said as she stuck out her free hand.

Malfoy shook it.  "Deal."

"Great!" came the voices of Blaise Zabini and Ana Granger.


	3. The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 3 The Calm Before the Storm 

It was set.  Hermione Granger had made a deal with Draco Malfoy. In about a week's time, she would be the new Mrs. Draco Malfoy for two days, being paid three thousand galleons for it as well.  Ana Granger would be Ana Malfoy and Malfoy would be "daddy."  Oh what a day.

After shaking on their deal, Draco, Hermione, and Blaise drew up guidelines to follow.  Hermione was given, by Blaise of course, a packet of paper that outlined the Malfoy-Granger relationship over the years, i.e. how they first met, their wedding, the birth of Ana, etc.  After Blaise handed the packets to both Draco and Hermione to be memorized for Monsieur Deville, both parties looked at Blaise with a raised eyebrow, wondering when he could've had the time to write it out and most importantly why.  But no one, not even Draco whom he knew for most of his life, knew exactly what went on in the mind of Blaise Zabini.  There's a fine line between genius and insanity, and Blaise Zabini constantly treaded that tightrope.

They had agreed to secrecy, well Blaise and Draco had.  Hermione insisted that she be able to tell Harry, Ginny, and Ron, but when her requests fell on deaf ears, she resorted to dignified begging.  Reluctantly both men agreed to let Hermione tell her friends.

After everything was settled, Hermione and Ana flooed back to Blaise's house, followed shortly after by Blaise.  It had been an odd day for everyone.

"I'll owl you about Monsieur Deville's arrival," Blaise said as Hermione stepped out of his study.  "Good night Granger, Ana."

Hermione gave him a smile before walking out of the room with Ana wrapped securely in her arms.

*~*

Hermione was pacing around her living room, waiting for her three best friends to floo or apparate into her tiny living room.  It was a Sunday, the day after her meeting with Blaise and Draco.  After arriving back home, she had immediately called, because everyone nowadays knew how to use a phone, muggle or magic, the Potters and Ron and told them to be at her house at precisely 1 pm the following afternoon.

Hermione was walking back and forth in her living room while her daughter calmly watched her from her seat upon the couch.  She was thinking of ways to properly tell her friends about the deal she made with Malfoy just the night before.  

"Now I know this may come as a shock to all of you but-no, no that sounds as if I'm talking to a group of children Ana's age."  She was nervous, but why should she be?  So Malfoy had been their enemy since they were 11 and it would have been totally against the "no associating with the enemy" rule that she had created for herself, but still, three thousand galleons is three thousand galleons.

"Well you see there was Zabini and then Malfoy and then this crazy-no that won't do at all!"  She let out an exaggerated sigh as she walked back and forth in her living room.  She was getting frustrated, for the past hour or so she had been trying to create the perfect way to break the news to her friends. 

Ana watched with a bit of amusement.  Her mummy was walking around their living room like a mad man, well woman in this case, talking to herself and letting out the occasional yelp or two.  It was a rare occasion whenever her mum was out of sorts, and Ana, like all Hermione's friends and family, enjoyed watching every minute of it.

"Guess who's the new Mrs. Malfoy?"  Hermione almost laughed, almost.  It would've been funny if it hadn't been for the honesty in those words.  Technically she would be the new Mrs. Malfoy…stranger things have happened.

With a pop, Ron, Harry, and Ginny aparrated into Hermione's flat together at exactly 1 pm, knowing the wrath of one Hermione Granger if either one of them were to be late.  Startled by the noise, Hermione whirled around and stared at her three friends standing near the couch with inquisitive looks on all three of their faces, no doubt wondering what was so important that Hermione couldn't tell them over the phone.  Before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out of her mouth.

"For two days, and for three thousand galleons, I'll be Malfoy's wife and Ana his daughter."  Oh Bugger.  _Bloody brilliant that one Granger._  Hermione could've stuck her foot in her mouth.  She had a habit of blurting things out.  Hermione groaned as her friends took a seat next to her daughter on the couch, Ginny seating Ana on her lap.  Thankfully, Hermione had said it too fast for her friends to fully comprehend or understand what she said.

"Come again?" came Harry's voice.  All three friends were used to Hermione's rambling on about certain things, most of the time they just didn't bother to listen.  But when they heard the words "Malfoy" and "wife" in the same sentence regarding her, their ears perked up and their interest shot up.

Hermione took a deep breath, slowly walking over to the couch.  She sat on the floor in front of them, forcing all four occupants to look down on her.  She opened her mouth, and then closed it.  How exactly do you tell your best friends that you agreed to help Malfoy, enemy since back in their Hogwarts days, for the sum of three thousand galleons?  Well she told them basically everything already, so might as well start from the beginning.

"Ok," she began.  "Yesterday at work I was visited by one Blaise Zabini.  You do remember him right?"  With that they all nodded.  Ron opened his mouth to respond but Hermione held up a silencing hand.  "Ron let me explain before you start asking questions.  Well, he asked me to meet him with Ana at his house to discuss 'business' with Draco Malfoy.  I wanted to say 'No' as soon as the words 'Draco Malfoy' left his mouth, but he is basically my boss and he can fire me on whim.  So obviously I agreed.  Then-"

"Hermione, you willingly agreed to go to a _Slytherin's_ house?" Ron cut in abruptly.

"Ron let me finish," Hermione said as she glared at Ron.  "Like I was saying, then when the time rolled around to arrive at Zabini's with my daughter, I found out that we would be flooing to Malfoy Manor to meet with Malfoy.  Now right then and there I was going to back out, but he threatened to fire me and you guys know that I cannot risk losing my job over petty school rivalry.  So I went and met with the twitchy little ferret and-"

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted once again.

"I swear on Merlin Ronald Weasley that if you don't let me finish my explanation I will hex you, and hex you good might I add."  With that he abruptly shut his mouth and focused on listening to Hermione.  "Ok so basically the 'business' that we were to be discussing was in fact a marriage proposition from Malfoy."

At this all three friends interrupted.  "Hermione!" they said in unison.

"Calm down," she said.  "It's not real, it's just for two days.  Malfoy has to impress Monsieur Pierre Deville, owner of Gladrags, so that he, Monsieur Deville, would agree to a business deal with Malfoy Industries.  And that's where Ana and I come in."  All three friends stared at her with a look that said 'Go on,' they wanted to know why this certain business deal would affect their best friend and her daughter.  "Monsieur Deville is a family and muggle type of guy, kind of like Mr. Weasley."   Ginny and Ron smiled at the mention of their father.  "And because of Zabini, Malfoy has to pretend to be married to a Muggle-born witch and have a child for two days."

"And you agreed to be the unlucky witch?" Harry asked, although already knowing the answer to his own question.

"And I agreed," Hermione finished with a sigh.  There, she had done it.  Now all she had to do was wait for it…wait for it…wait for-

"Hermione Granger!" Ron's voice boomed as he rapidly stood up.  Ah, there it was, the infamous Weasley temper.  Ginny had excellent self-control, much more than her hot tempered brothers, and so just sat there with a look that clearly stated 'Have you gone mad?'

"Now Ron," she began as she quickly stood up as well.  She hated looking up to anyone.  She flashed Harry a look, pleading with her eyes to help her as Ron ranted on about the situation like why she would agree, that Malfoy or Zabini had definitely put her under the _Imperious_, yada yada yada.  But Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry Hermione but I agree with Ron," he said as he stood up and tried to get his red headed best friend to sit back down.  "I don't understand why you'd willingly help, no less marry although fake, Malfoy."

"He offered me three thousand galleons for it," Ron stopped his ranting as Hermione sighed.  He allowed himself to be led back the couch where Ginny and Ana sat.

"But still-" began Ron in a less heated more little boy type of voice.

"But nothing Ron," she declared as she stood in front of her three friends and her daughter.  "We, Ana and I, need the money."  
"Hermione you know we'd help you financially if you'd ask," Ginny said, Ron nodding vigorously beside Harry.

Hermione sighed.  "I know but-"

"Hermione we know," Harry cut in.  Hermione was always the proud type.  Even back at school she always wanted to prove that she could do it on her own, without help from anyone.  Maybe it was because of her muggle heritage or maybe it was because she was a woman in a male dominated society, but no one had ever really known.  Even when Ana was born and her father had left them, she still never asked for anything but babysitters from her friends and family.  She was strong, but she was also very stubborn.  She was self-reliant and hated asking for help.  So if pretending to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy for two days was what she needed to, then all Harry could really do was support her decision.  Besides, what are best friends for?

"And we support your decision," he said looking pointedly at Ron.  Ron whipped around to face Harry.

"We do?" he said, looking as confused as ever.  He still didn't see why Hermione couldn't just ask them for money instead of acting like Malfoy's wife for two days. And he thought it even worse that Ana was dragged into this whole ordeal as well.  Ron was quite the oblivious one.

"Ron," Ginny hissed.  Ron just rolled his eyes.  _They're all against me, the whole lot of them._

"Fine," Ron grumbled, looking much like a five-year-old child with his arms crossed over his chest.

Hermione's face lit up.  "Thank you," she said as she practically jumped off the floor and onto her friends, engulfing her three friends and her daughter in a group hug.  Ron sighed and just smiled, he could never really truly stay mad at Hermione.

Ana watched the whole exchange between her mum, her Aunt Ginny, and her Uncles Ron and Harry with concern evident in her blue orbs.  She never liked it when her mummy and her Uncle Ron fought, which they often did.  She knew her mum was talking about the decision that she had made with the two kind men just the other night.  But she didn't understand why Uncle Ron was getting so frustrated over it.  Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini were very kind and nice to her, she didn't understand why Uncles Harry and Ron and Aunt Ginny as well were against her mother doing this, and for three thousand galleons as well!  But a smile graced her features once more as her mum sprang up off the floor and circled all of them in a hug.

"I swear if Malfoy so much as lays a finger on you, " Ron started, staring directly into Hemione's eyes.  "I will hex him so good that the words 'disgustingly hideous' won't even begin to describe him"

*~*

Life returned back to normal for Hermione, Ana, Draco and Blaise as they waited patiently for Monsieur Deville's arrival.  Hermione went back to work at Ready for Wear, not telling Julie or any of her other colleagues of the deal that she had made with their boss.  Since learning more about her father, Ana was constantly wishing and praying that he would somehow return back to her and her mum.  Draco and Blaise returned to work, making sure that Malfoy Industries stayed on top of its game, so to speak.

It was on one particular Saturday morning in December that found Blaise Zabini in Draco Malfoy's bedroom.

Blaise threw back the curtains in Draco's bedroom, promptly arising Draco and the blonde-haired witch who was lying snuggly, and naked, in his arms.

"Rise and shine beautiful," he said, smirking as Draco and the blonde beside him groggily opened their eyes.  The blonde witch glared at Blaise while Draco just grunted and laid his head back on the pillow.

Blaise rolled his eyes.  "Honestly, get your fat arse out of bed Malfoy."

Draco just mumbled incoherently as he propped his elbows behind him to look at Blaise sitting in the chair near the window and a blonde witch still snuggled beside him.  Draco Malfoy wasn't the type of guy to just shag every girl that threw themselves at him, contrary to popular belief he did have standards.  But for the life of him, he could never remember the blonde's name, it was Jenny something or another.  He had been dating her for about two weeks, but their "relationship" was just about the sex.  He sighed as he disentangled her from himself, _time for a change_ he thought as she smiled up at him.  

"Call me," she said before kissing him softly on the lips, rolling out of bed, and gathering her clothing off the floor.  She took the comforter with her to the bathroom and viciously glared at Blaise along the way.  Draco restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

"You shag girls with your boxers on Malfoy?" Blaise asked somewhat disappointed, noticing that Malfoy wasn't naked under the covers but was in fact clad in green and silver striped silk boxers.

"For your information, " Draco started, eyeing Blaise curiously, "I don't like to sleep naked."

"Shame," Blaise said as he shrugged, lifting his gaze from Draco's boxers to his face, starring intently into his silver orbs.

"You know," Draco started as he sat himself up on his four-poster bed, "it's times like these that make me question your sexuality Zabini."

Blaise just smirked at him as Draco lifted an eyebrow.  As much as Draco enjoyed being described as "mysterious," it was Blaise who was the true mystery between the two.  Yes it was true that Draco and Blaise could have been described as best friends, blood brothers even, if not for the unwritten rule that Slytherins were unfeeling and unattached.  And although he knew everything about Blaise, and vice versa, there was still something about the raven-haired man that remained a mystery, a hole in the complete picture.  Part of that mystery was the fact that Blaise was always so damned unpredictable, he always kept people on their toes and no one could ever truly guess what he was thinking or feeling.  He was an open book written in a dead language that no one exactly knew how to read or understand.

After a few moments of silence, Draco finally sighed and began speaking.  "Why are you here Zabini and," he looked at the clock on his bedside table which read 7:45 am, "this early as well?"

"Oh yes that's right.  It seems we have a change of plan," he shrugged as Draco stared at him, waiting for him to continue.  "I spoke to Monsieur Deville earlier this morning.  He'll be arriving at 7 o'clock tonight, not tomorrow like we've all planned."

"What?" Draco half yelled, eyes wide, as he leaned a little forward, closer to Blaise.  "That changes everything.  Owl Granger, tell the house elves, what are you still doing in my room?  Oh never mind.  Why didn't you wake me sooner?  There's not-"

"Relax" Blaise replied, staring at his friend with amusement.  "I've already contacted Granger.  She should be arriving at my house," he looked down at his watch, "just about now actually."  He stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his clothes.  "I'll floo home and then back here.  We'll start preparations as soon as Granger, Ana, and I have flooed back here."

And with that Blaise left the bedroom and headed towards the Malfoy study, ready to floo home.  Malfoy Manor was an odd place.  On top of not being located on any map, it also had apparating wards that prevented witches and wizards who were of non-Malfoy descent, and who were not given permission from Draco himself, from apparating on the estate.  The only way one could floo in and out of Malfoy Manor as well was through the fireplace in his study, and occasionally his bedroom.  Draco also had a driver, the only driver really who knew where the Manor was located, who would pick up business associates that preferred to travel the muggle way, through airplanes, like Monsieur Deville.  Like Draco had said earlier, Malfoy's really do enjoy their privacy.

As soon as Blaise stepped out of his room, Draco jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, dreading the long and grueling day ahead of him. 


	4. Introducing Mrs Malfoy

A/n: Thank you all so very much for reviewing and actually liking my story.  I really appreciate all the feedback I'm getting for this story.  Thank you. 

Oh yeah and let's "pretend" that Monsieur Deville has a French accent because I don't really know how to write that.

Chapter 4 Introducing Mrs. Malfoy 

Blaise, Hermione, and Ana flooed back to Malfoy Manor in a matter of twenty minutes.  Draco was sitting in his chair at his desk, his wet hair falling carelessly over his forehead.  He was wearing black slacks and a long gray button up shirt, with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  He watched as Blaise, with his khaki slacks and green cashmere sweater, appeared in his fireplace, followed closely by Hermione, clad in sweats and an oversized sweater with her wet hair tied in a high bun, and Ana, dressed in the same ensemble as her mum but with her wet sandy blonde hair flowing freely down her back.  

Hermione and Ana each carried a small bag with them, packed with clothes and other necessities they needed for the two days.  Two small house elves appeared, took their bags, and then proceeded to disappear, no doubt putting their bags in their respective rooms.  Hermione opened her mouth to speak out against house elves, but thought better of it and just shut her mouth.

There was an awkward silent pause that followed, just after the house elves arrived then left without a single a word.  Blaise cleared his throat.  "Well," he began," I believe we should start."

"Right," replied Draco as he stood up, opened the door, and gestured Hermione, Ana, and Blaise out of the study and into the hall.

Hermione looked around in awe as she passed paintings of past Malfoys and very expensive sculptures and artworks.  She realized that she hadn't really been in Malfoy Manor before, and the size and elegance as it was described many times before in various magazines and newspapers failed to give the Manor proper justice.  It was far more beautiful and enormous than she originally imagined.  But it was also colder and looked as if no one really lived there.  And no one really did live there anyway.  Aside from Draco, there was only his driver, his personal butler, and a maid or two; the rest of his staff consisted of house elves.

As they stepped into the living room, Hermione's breath caught as she looked at the beautiful room.  It was completely white from the color of the walls, to the marble floor, to the no doubt expensive furniture.  A fire was burning in the large fireplace at the far end of the living room.  A large Christmas tree, about nine feet tall, stood next to the fireplace, decorated in green and silver ornaments.  _Typical_ she thought as she rolled her eyes and did a full 360 turn, inspecting the elegant room.  Yes it was beautiful and breathtaking, but like the rest of the house, it didn't seem as if a family lived there.

Ana looked at the room with excitement and awe in her large blue eyes.  She had never seen such an elegant room in her life.  Being used to the simple furniture and living of their flat, the Burrow, her Uncle Ron and Aunt Ginny's flat, and her grandparent's house, she was struck speechless, to say the least, of the beauty and rich décor in the room.

After moments of silence as both Hermione and Ana surveyed the room, Hermione turned to Draco.  "I think we should start with redecorating," she said matter of fact.

"Excuse me?" Draco began as his eyebrows knitted together.

"Don't get me wrong, your house is beautiful Malfoy," she rolled her eyes as Draco seemed to swell with pride, "but it doesn't seem very home-y."  With a raise of an eyebrow from both Blaise and Draco, she elaborated further.  "It doesn't seem as if a family lives here.  Your house is not all that inviting Malfoy."

"And how, " Malfoy started as crossed her to sit on the white couch, "do you propose we make it more 'home-y' and 'inviting'."

Hermione smiled as she walked around the room again.  "Simple.  We throw in a few toys here and there, colorful rugs to bring more color into this room, a few blankets and pillows on the floor, and your tree-"

"Whoa calm down," he said as he cut in and held up both of his hands.  "And what's wrong with my tree?"  He stood up and walked over to the tree, followed by Hermione, Ana, and Blaise.  The tree was very beautiful, he had a designer come in and decorate it for him.  Of course, he would have no other colored ornaments but silver and green.  Slytherin pride.

Hermione looked at the tree as she spoke.  "It's beautiful, despite the horrible choice of colors," she turned around and smirked at Blaise and Draco, "but it looks too structured, like you hired someone to decorate it."

"I did hire someone to decorate it," Draco mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Hermione.

"Well the ornaments have got to go," he looked at her incredulously.

"You're bloody crazy!" Draco cut in.  "And what do you know anyway, you live in a one bedroom flat."

She glared at him.  "Just because I'm not a stuck up, rich, pompous arsehole as yourself does not mean that I do not have taste."

"Well excuse me Miss 'I'm-the-greatest-decorator-around,' I didn't know that your 'Know-it-all' abilities far surpassed that of just books," his voice was dripping with sarcasm as they continued with their war of words as Blaise and Ana looked on, starring at Draco and then Hermione.  They looked as if they were watching a tennis tournament, watching the ball as it bounced from one side to another.

"Git," she spat out.

"Up tight wench"

"Egotistical bastard"

"Buck toothed, bushy haired Gryffindor"

"Pasty faced Slytherin"

"Mudblood"

"Ferret"

"You get turned into a ferret once and nobody drops it,"****** he said as he stared icily at her.  They stood in silence, glaring at each other, for what felt like hours but must've really been a minute or two until Blaise cleared his throat, successfully turning both party's attention to him.

"Well," he began, attempting to break the tension in the room, "we'll redecorate, but Draco has to approve it."

Draco still glared at Hermione; he didn't see why they had to listen to her.  It was his house, so why did she feel like she could just waltz in there and change everything?  He was about to tell Granger and her child to leave his house, when he looked at Blaise and saw a pleading look in his eyes.  They did need Hermione and Ana, it was already too late to find another Muggle-born witch with a child.

He sighed and rolled his eyes.  "Fine," he said, feeling outnumbered, "but remember," he turned to face Hermione, "I approve what you decide to change in _my_ house."

She glared at him for a few seconds before she smiled and turned to Blaise.  "Great.  We'll need muggle toys, stuffed animals and everything.  We'll need some colorful rugs, blankets, and pillows; it's too white in here.  And the Christmas tree-"

Draco blocked her out as she rambled on about the changes they should make to the house.  He personally thought the house was fine as is.

Beautiful rugs were transferred into the living room.  Because the floor was marble, it was always cold in the room despite the fact that the fire was burning brightly.  Colorful blankets and pillows were thrown haphazardly onto the couches and loveseats, and on the floor as well.  Muggle and wizard toys were brought in.  Large stuffed animals were placed on the floor of the living room and on the furniture as well.  Flowers were added as well.  Stockings were hung by the fireplace and garlands, wreaths, candles, poinsettias, mistletoe and other various Christmas decorations were strewn around the living room, as well as the rest of the house.  Although none of the furniture had been moved or changed, it looked like a completely new room, more vibrant, festive, and home-y, as Hermione liked to call it.

Next Blaise and Draco showed Hermione and Ana their rooms.  They were both in the same wing as Draco's.  Hermione's was beautifully done, rich pale peach bed comforters and furniture.  There was a fireplace in her room as well.  Ana's room was smaller than Hermione's, and decorated in pink instead of pale peach.  It was beautiful, fit for a little princess.  Ana beamed as she looked at the room she'd be staying in for the next two days.  There was a beautiful dollhouse in one corner and toys, muggle and wizard alike, were strewn across the floor and the shelves.  There were also books.  Like her mum, Ana was an avid reader, although she could only read picture books at the tender age of five.  But also like her mum, she was at the top of her class.

After unpacking their bags and getting acquainted with their respective rooms, they came down the stairs and back into the living room, where Draco and Blaise were sitting on one of the couches, drinking butterbear.  Blaise, noticing Hermione and Ana walking down the stairs, stood up to greet them. 

"Ah Mrs. Malfoy," Blaise smirked as Draco choked on the butterbear he was drinking.  "Monique, Draco's personal stylist, will be here in roughly thirty minutes with her whole team to fix you, and your lovely daughter, up."  Hermione just nodded as she took her daughter's hand and walked to the loveseat across from Blaise and Draco.  

It was already passed lunch, they had eaten somewhere in between redecorating the living room and Hermione and Draco's constant bickering.  It was a surprise that they actually finished redecorating the living room and had worked on other parts of the house.  Thanks to the help of the house elves, they had redecorated most of the house.  There was still the issue about the tree though.

Hermione stood up and walked to the tree once again.  "Can we fix the tree?" she asked hopefully, glancing at the silver and green ornaments.

"No," Draco said with finality.

"Please?" she offered, looking behind her to where Blaise and Draco sat.

"Granger we already changed much of my whole bloody Manor, the tree will remain as is."  Hermione pouted as she walked back to the love seat shared with her daughter.  In all honesty, the tree was fine; it needn't be changed.  It fit in nicely with the newly decorated living room, but Hermione's favorite Christmas activity had always been to decorate the tree.  And Malfoy's nine-foot tree was one hell of a tree.

They all sat in silence as movement and noise could be heard coming from Draco's study.  They stood as soon as a witch, presumably Monique, entered the living room followed closely by about a team of ten to fifteen wizards and witches.  Monique was a young witch, fashionable and obviously very rich.  She had cherry blonde hair with white blonde highlights that fell to the middle of her back.  It flowed beautifully down her back in soft curls, unlike Hermione's wild ones.  She had hazel colored eyes.  She wore tight fitting blue jeans, designer label of course, with stiletto heeled boots that complemented the jeans very nicely.  She wore a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, like Draco.  The top buttons were left unbuttoned, showing a generous amount of cleavage, and the last two buttons were unbuttoned as well, exposing her toned stomach and her diamond belly ring.  Around her neck was a long white scarf that, with the aid of a warming charm, helped keep her warm in the snow.  All in all, she was gorgeous.  She was tall, 5'9", and could easily have been a model.

Hermione felt embarrassed standing in the presence of such a beautiful women clad only in her sweats and runners, with her hair pulled back into a bun.  Suddenly she saw the difference between her world and Malfoy's._  I wonder if Malfoy and her ever dated_, Hermione found herself thinking.

After greeting Draco and Blaise, Monique turned to Hermione.  She looked at Hermione with a "thinking" stance, one arm across her stomach and the other resting on it, hand rubbing her chin.  After a few moments of analyzing on Monique's part and blushing from Hermione, Monique smiled and clapped her hands.  

"Wonderful," she began, "I must say Draco, you gave me plenty to work with here."  She held out her hand as Hermione blushed at the complement.  Draco just rolled his eyes as Blaise watched the exchange.  "Monique Zabini"

Hermione looked at the woman with wide eyes.  She looked at her left hand, a beautiful platinum wedding band rested on her ring finger.  She looked at Blaise's, the same wedding band rested on his finger as well.  Obviously Malfoy and her never dated, she's married to Zabini.

Hermione took her hand and smiled back.  "Hermione Granger"

"Now on to business," Monique stated as she took Hermione by her hand and dragged her up the stairs to the room they used as a salon.  The ten or so men and women that arrived with Monique followed closely by, as did Draco, Blaise, and Ana, who took hold of Draco's hand as they climbed up the stairs.  He looked down at her, and she smiled back at him.  He couldn't help but give her a half smile.

"First thing," Monique said as soon as they stepped into the room, "is to shower."  She smiled brightly at Hermione as she handed her a bathrobe and a towel.  Hermione took hold of her daughter's hand and made her way to the bathroom across the hall.

About an hour later, Hermione stepped back into the room with her daughter.  Hermione was clad only in the bathrobe Monique handed to her and her undergarments.  Ana was dressed similarly.  They got right on down to business as soon as both girls walked into the room, Monique taking Hermione and one of her assistants taking Ana.  Draco slipped out as they began hair and makeup and made his way to his study.  It wouldn't take him two hours to get ready.  Blaise, though, stayed behind with his wife.

"How long have you been married?" he asked Hermione.

"Six years," she answered, her face covered in green gunk with zucchinis on her eyes.

"Good, good," Blaise replied, pacing back and forth in the room.  "What day did you get married?"

She sighed heavily.  "July 15, 2000"

"And what time does your husband usually get home from work?"

"Goodness Zabini," she answered, taking the zucchinis off of her eyes to properly glare at him.  "I know this, you don't have to test me."

"Don't aggravate Hermione, darling," Monique interjected, taking the zucchinis from Hermione and proceeding to wash off the green gunk.

"Sorry love," he replied as he sat down and watched.

At around a quarter to seven, Blaise and Draco stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting expectantly for Monsieur Deville and Hermione and Ana.  Within an hour, Draco had gotten cleaned up and changed.  Blaise had flooed home and gotten changed as well.  His wife was still with Hermione.

Draco, wearing expensive all black robes that looked very nice on him indeed, had his hair slicked back like he did during his Hogwarts days.  Blaise wore dark blue robes, complementing his eyes very nicely.  His hair, much shorter than Draco's, fell carelessly over his forehead.  They were pacing, obviously nervous and scared that the little plan of theirs might not work.

Hermione was in her room with Monique and Ana.  She was still in her bathrobe while her daughter was already dressed.  Hermione looked at the dress robes on her bed, they were beautiful.  She hadn't worn robes since Ginny and Harry's wedding a year before, for she was more comfortable wearing muggle clothing, where she was the matron of honor.  But the robes on her bed made the lovely robes that Ginny had picked out for her seem as if they were merely everyday robes, nothing special.  But of course, what else would you expect from a Malfoy?  _Obviously_ Hermione thought as she ran her hand along the beautiful fabric, _Malfoys don't do anything by halves._  With the help of Blaise's wife and her daughter, she slipped into the elegant robes.

A knock came at the door.  Blaise and Draco stopped their pacing and looked up.  They looked at each other and swallowed.  He was here.  As Jeffrey, Draco's butler, went to the door to open it, Blaise spoke up.

"Wait," he said, abruptly halting Jeffrey's progress.  Draco looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  He handed him a little red velvet box.  "Your wedding ring," he said simply as Draco opened the box and slipped the platinum wedding band onto his left ring finger.

Draco nodded his head to Jeffrey, prompting him to continue.  Jeffrey opened the door and in walked Monsieur Pierre Deville, followed closely by Robert, the Malfoy family chauffer.

Pierre Deville was a middle-aged man.  He was round and had a small grayish-black beard.  He reminded many of Santa Clause.  He wore a black suit.  Because he traveled the muggle way, through airplane, he didn't want to garner a few odd glances for wearing robes.

"Monsieur Deville," Blaise said, smiling and stepping forward.  House elves appeared and took his suitcase and other belongings up to his room.

"Monsieur Zabini," Monsieur Deville responded, shaking Blaise's outstretched hand.  "Ah and Monsieur Malfoy."  Draco stepped forward as well and shook the man's hand.

"Monsieur Deville," he said by way of greeting.

They talked for a bit in the foyer, at the bottom of the stairs.  They were waiting for Hermione and Ana.

"Yes I see that my wife…" Draco trailed off as he looked up the stairs.  There, at the top of the stairs, stood Hermione and Ana.  Hermione was wearing the robes that were just moments before lying on her bed.  They were burgundy and clung very nicely to her body, flaring out at the bottom.  It had a low neckline, showing a little cleavage.  The sleeves came halfway up between her hand and her elbow.  The robes were long, falling all the way down to her toes.  Hermione's hair was done up, with a few strands framing her face.  Her makeup was very light, but still noticeable.  A simple silver necklace with a diamond pendant finished off her outfit, diverting many people's attention away from the low neckline.  All in all, Hermione was beautiful.

Ana looked lovely as well.  She wore light blue robes that set off her blue eyes and dark blonde hair.  Her blonde locks were pulled back into a high ponytail, the excess hair done into ringlets.  She was beautiful, truly her mother's daughter.

Draco's breath caught as soon as his eyes focused on Hermione.  Sure he knew Hermione was pretty, but she looked even lovelier that evening.  The dress robes accented her figure very nicely, and the color brought out her brown eyes and hair.  He heard nothing but the beat of his own heart as she started walking down the stairs holding Ana's hand.  She held eye contact with him and smiled brightly, a slight blush on her cheeks, from the make up or from the stares from Draco, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville, he didn't know.

Draco held out his hand as she reached the bottom of the stairs.  She took it with her free hand, still staring into his gray orbs.

"Darling," he said as he kissed her hand affectionately, noticing that she wore the same ring plus another, the engagement ring, on her left hand as well.  He kept eye contact with her and smirked into her hand as he felt her tense slightly, obviously fighting the desire to pull her hand away and wipe it against her robes.  He turned around to look at the other men standing there.  "May I introduce to you, Monsieur Deville, my wife, Hermione Malfoy."

Hermione smiled politely at Monsieur Deville as he copied Draco's actions, took her hand and kissed it too.  She was too shocked to do much else, it hadn't really hit her that she was actually married to the Slytherin, albeit fake marriage, until she heard the words "Hermione Malfoy" come out of Draco's mouth.  It hadn't even hit her when Monique handed her the wedding band and the engagement ring, placing them securely on her left hand ring finger.  She felt a pang in her heart as she slid the rings onto her fingers, remembering the time, six years ago, when someone had done the same thing with a different ring on a different finger.  That ring rested on her right hand ring finger, where it had first been placed nearly six years back and hadn't once been removed.  She didn't know why she still wore it, but she just did.

"Your wife is very lovely," Monsieur Deville said as they all headed to the dining room.  Hermione smiled and blushed.  "And your daughter as well."  Ana beamed from beside Hermione.

Eventually they all reached the dinning room, sitting down in their respective seats.  Draco walked right to one end of the table, sitting down immediately without even pulling out Hermione's, his "wife", chair. She huffed and held back the sudden urge to smack him upside the head as she pulled out her own chair and took her seat to the left of him and Ana to her right.  Monsieur Deville sat at the other end of the table, Blaise sitting right next to him and across from Ana.

Polite conversation was made as the food was served to them.  Monsieur Deville asked questions from how Malfoy Industries was doing to what the family had done recently (at which time Hermione had stuttered, Draco and Blaise stared blankly at each other, and Ana saved the day by making up a remarkable story about ice skating and such).

"Tell me," Monsieur Deville began just as dessert was being served "I would like to know very much of your wedding."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other; secretly asking which one of them would be dishing out the complete BS.

"Go ahead…dear," Malfoy forced the last word out and smirked as Hermione softly glared at him.

"Well," she began, plastering a huge smile on her face before turning around to face the rest of the table. "We were both so young, but we loved each other deeply and felt that marriage was the next step."  Draco snorted but let out an obviously fake cough as Hermione kicked him from underneath the table.  "We, Malf-"

Blaise began to cough, abruptly interrupting Hermione's sentence.  Four pairs of eyes were on him as he coughed and pounded his right fist against his chest.  It was perfectly clear to each and every person seated at the table that Blaise was faking his coughs.  He cleared his throat as his coughing spasm seemed to pass.

"Yes well as I was saying," Hermione said, eyeing Blaise curiously.  "Malf-"

Blaise began to cough again.  This time louder and longer.  Somewhere in between his fake coughs, he had managed to spit out the word "Draco."  As his "coughing" died down he picked up his glass and drank the butterbear in it.  He cleared his throat after.

"So sorry," he began, giving Hermione a meaningful look.  "Do continue Mrs. Malfoy.  I would love to hear of the _Draco_-Hermione wedding."

Hermione nodded as she turned to look Draco in the eye.  "Draco…" she said his name slowly, seemingly dragging it out.  She smiled lovingly at him, well as lovingly as she could anyway, seeing as what she felt for Draco was far from love.  He glared, but then smiled as sweetly as he could, which ended up looking like a sneer and smirk mixed as one, ah well at least he tried.  This little "deal" of theirs seemed to turn into something more, it was a battle to see which one would crack first.  And they were both doing sickeningly sweet things to make the other person snap.  Ah, and the rivalry lives on.

After dessert was served and dinner wrapped up, Ana quietly asked her mum if she could go to sleep.  Standing up and taking her daughter's hand, she excused herself from the dinner table.

Before leaving though, Ana walked up to Draco and gave him a hug.  "Good night daddy," she said as Draco hugged her back with a half smile and a shocked look.  Hermione watched the exchange with half a smile as well.  She hated that the one person that Ana was calling daddy was the one person she had hoped would never be "daddy" to any of her children.  But it was a beautiful sight just the same.

"Goodnight _darling_," she said with a smirk.  "Blaise, Monsieur Deville," she inclined her head to both men before walking out of the dinning room, daughter trailing closely behind.

After a few more minutes of idle chitchat, Blaise Zabini excused himself for the night and proceeded to walk to Draco's study to floo home.

"I would very much like to see your library Monsieur Malfoy," Monsieur Deville stated as they made their way up the stairs.  Draco smiled as he led Monsieur Deville into the Malfoy library, which was located just across from his room.  The library was enormous and filled with books and tomes.  Its size and the amount of books it held could rival that of even the library back at Hogwarts.  Draco was surprised Hermione hadn't visited that particular room yet, seeing as it was right next door to her room.

Monsieur Deville grabbed a book and sat down on a chair close to the fireplace.  With a flick of his wand, he had gotten a fire started.  Draco bid goodnight to the man and walked out of the library, not bothering to close the door.

Just then, Hermione walked out of Anna's room and crossed the hall, seemingly unaware of both Draco's presence and the large library that was open for all to see.  Draco glanced from the form of Monsieur Deville sitting in the library with a book in his hands to Hermione crossing the hall to her room and back to Monsieur Deville again.  He quickly grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her back across the hall, headed for his room.

"What the-" Hermione started but was cut off as Draco tightened his hold on her.  Monsieur Deville looked up at Draco and Hermione.  Draco smiled at him and inclined his head before moving backwards into his room, still holding Hermione's wrist.

As soon as the doors closed Hermione wrenched her hand out of his grasp and glared at him, rubbing her wrist with her other hand.

"What was that all about Malfoy?"

"What do you think Granger?" he stated.  "Monsieur Deville would have seen you going into your room, and how would it look to him if we didn't even share the same room?"

Hermione remained silent, glare still in place.  She sighed then rolled her eyes.  "Fine," she began, "we'll just wait until he calls it a night."

They waited in silence for at least thirty minutes before Draco quietly opened the door, only to be met with the sight of Monsieur Deville still reading in the vast library.  He shut the door and turned to her.

"He doesn't seem to want to leave," he said as he walked to the bed.

"So what do you expect me to do Malfoy," she said as she whirled around to glare at him.

He shrugged his shoulders as he moved his blanket to get into his bed.

She glared daggers at him.  "Fine," she said before turning and walking to the door.  Her hand was on the handle as Draco came up behind her and pulled her away from the door.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"Messing up your plans," she replied haughtily.  "Goodnight Mr. Malfoy."  With that she turned back to the door, ready to open it.

And again Draco pulled her away.

"I've worked too hard for it to all go down the drain right now," he said slowly, a silent rage bubbling within him.  How dare she even think of messing up this opportunity for him?

"What should I do Malfoy?" she half screamed.  "Sleep in the same bed as you?"

"No," he stated, a smirk gracing his features.  "You sleep on the couch while I sleep in my bed."

Her glare seemed to grow, if at all possible.  The nerve of that cocky little bastard.  "You foul piece of Slytherin scum!" she yelled as she poked his chest with her index finger.  She started walking forward, causing Draco to walk backwards.  "I can't believe I ever agreed to help you!  You're still the same slimy, no-good-'  
Her ranting was interrupted by a knock at the door.  _Thank heavens_ Draco thought as he maneuvered himself away from Hermione and toward the door.  He opened the door, only to close it again.  He turned to look at Hermione who was still glaring at him and who seemingly had steam coming out of her ears.

He opened the door again and smiled at the late night intruder.

"Monsieur Malfoy," Monsieur Deville started, peaking over his shoulder to look at the still very angry Hermione.  "I heard some yelling, is everything all right Monsieur Malfoy?"

Draco forced a smile.  "Yes," he answered quietly.  He coughed and cleared his throat.  "Lover's spat."

Monsieur Deville smiled knowingly and winked as he bid goodnight and turned to leave.  Draco shuddered at what Monsieur Deville could possibly be thinking.  _Randy old man_.

He turned around to face Hermione only to find that she was still glaring at him, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.  Goodness she was the most stubborn witch he had ever had the displeasure of coming across.

After a few moments of silence Draco finally spoke up.  "Fine you take the bed and I'll get the couch.  Happy, oh Lady of Malfoy Manor?"

She smiled mockingly at him.  "Very."

After Draco dressed for bed, Hermione walked into his bathroom, only to come across another problem.  What will she wear?  All her clothes were back in her room.

"Um Malfoy," she called out from the bathroom.

He sighed.  "What is it now Granger?  Are the lights too bright for your liking?"

She rolled her eyes.  Stupid prat.   "I have nothing to wear," she stated, not even bothering to answer his second question.

Draco stood up from the couch near his fireplace and went through his closet, mumbling and huffing all the way.  He returned to find the bathroom door open and Hermione waiting expectantly on his couch.  _Now she wants the couch_ he thought as he handed her one of his shirts and a pair of old pajama bottoms.

"Thank you," she said as she took the clothes from his hand and went back into the bathroom.  A grumble and grunt was all she got in reply.

He settled down in the less than comfortable couch with a pillow and blankets.  Moments later, Hermione walked out of the bathroom with the obviously too large clothing and her hair cascading down her back.  Since her hair was up the whole evening, Draco didn't notice that Monique had managed to tame the girl's locks, if just for that one night.  Seeing her in his oversized clothes and her chocolate brown tresses falling over her shoulders made her look younger, like a little girl getting ready for bed.  It was endearing.  It was times like these that Draco forgot she was a 26-year-old single mother of a 5-year-old child.

He turned his head and shifted so he faced the back of the couch instead of Hermione.

Hermione silently got into bed and made herself comfortable.  Draco's bed was huge, warm, and very comfortable.  She snuggled deeper into the blankets and smiled to herself.

"Goodnight Malfoy," she said just before falling asleep.

It seemed to fall on deaf ears.  It was silent in the room, except for the breathing of Hermione and Draco.  Then…

"Goodnight Granger."

******Borrowed from the fic "The Bachelor" by Fluff.  Good fic, y'all should read it. 


	5. A Normal Family Picnic

A/n: Wow thank you all SO very much for reviewing.  I can't believe the amount of reviews I am getting for this story.  Thank you so very very much!

Oh and I stray away from the original movie in this chapter because I've only seen the movie once and don't remember what the hell happened.  And don't worry about me not finishing this story, because I WILL finish it.  And I may not have a chapter out for you all next week because usually I'm one chapter ahead, but it has caught up with me and now I've just barely started chapter 6.  Sorry in advance.  Enjoy.

**Chapter 5 A Normal Family Picnic**

This particular morning no sun shone through the blinds of Hermione's flat to awaken her.  No, this morning Hermione awoke in complete darkness, surrounded by the soft feeling of silk sheets against her skin.  Wait, silk sheets?  Who had silk sheets?  Definitely not her.  Momentarily forgetting where she was, Hermione struggled to remove the sheets wrapped securely around her and quickly get out of the foreign bed.  In her haste she had managed to somehow roll to the side of the bed, and gracelessly fall to the floor with a loud thump, awakening the sleeping figure on the couch.

Draco awoke with a start, bolting upright from the couch.  Instinctively he reached for his wand on the bedside table only to find that there was no bedside table and that he wasn't even in a bed.  He stared blankly at the black blob on the floor.

"Granger?" he asked tentatively.

"No," came her muffled and obviously irritated reply from within the sheets.  "It's Voldemort…who do you _think_ it is, you prat?"  With a huff she managed to find her way out of the black sheets that seemed to not want to let her out.  Her previously wavy hair was in disarray, sticking up every which way and falling all over her face.  She glared at Draco as if daring him to say anything to her at that moment.

With one look at Hermione's disorder Draco began to laugh silently.  Soon his silent laughter increased in volume and force.  He was doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach, as Hermione's glare only seemed to magnify.

Hermione pushed herself up off the floor, still glaring daggers at Draco's laughing form, and walked over to the bathroom.  She walked by Draco and smacked him upside his head, only causing him to laugh harder.  She rolled her eyes.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically walking into the bathroom, as Draco's laughs seemed only to grow.

Draco's laughter had seemed to subside as Hermione exited the bathroom.  A smirk was playing around his lips as he sat on the couch, legs outstretched and arms crossed over his chest.  The thick curtains were drawn back and the morning light illuminated the previously dark room.

"Oh do be quiet," she said, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the soft mattress.  They sat in silence for a moment, neither one making any move at all.  Finally Draco broke the silence.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" she countered, eyebrows furrowed and sending him an inquisitive look.

He rolled his eyes.  "Get out.  I have to get ready."

She glared at him as she stood up and walked over to the door.

"Make sure Monsieur Deville doesn't see you," Draco called from behind as she opened the door and stepped out into the hall.  It was quiet and no one seemed to be awake.  Quietly, and on tiptoes, Hermione crossed the hall and entered her room.

After about forty minutes, Draco and Hermione managed to clean up and change.  Draco opened his bedroom door first, followed by Hermione then Monsieur Deville.  Looking from Hermione to Monsieur Deville, Draco shot Hermione a meaningful look before turning to Monsieur Deville.

"Ah bonjour Monsieur Malfoy," came Monsieur Deville's voice from further down the hall.  Hermione quietly closed her door as Draco flashed the older man a grin.

"Bonjour Monsieur Deville, how did you sleep?"

"Very nicely.  And where is your lovely wife?" he asked, glancing around Draco's shoulder attempting to see inside his bedroom.

 "Attempting to wake up our daughter, I believe," he answered smoothly.  

"All went well last night, yes?" Monsieur Deville asked with a suggestive smirk.  He winked at Draco as Draco's eyes doubled in size and his cheeks colored slightly.  He coughed and mumbled something into his hand.  Monsieur Deville chuckled at Draco's obvious embarrassment.

"Why don't you go down to breakfast and we'll follow shortly," Draco finally said, his embarrassment slowly fading.

"Excellent idea Monsieur Malfoy," he responded turning around to walk towards the staircase.  "Until then," he called back.

"Until then," Draco muttered as Hermione slowly opened her door once again.

"Is he gone?" she whispered.  He nodded as she walked to Ana's room to wake her.

"We'll be walking down to breakfast together, makes us seem like a better family.  Knock on my door as soon as you're finished with Ana."  She nodded, walking into her daughter's room.

The sun was seeping in through the crevices of her pale pink drapes, illuminating the room slightly.  Hermione walked over to the bed and sat at the edge of Ana's mattress.

"Ana sweetie," she said.

Nothing.  She was like a rock.  She was a heavy sleeper, a trait passed down from her father.  Hermione smiled as she shook her daughter slightly.

"Ana darling it's time to wake up."  Ana groaned as she turned away from Hermione.

"Five more minutes mum," she incoherently mumbled.  Hermione smiled, and then smirked.

"Ana love you'll be late for school."  With that Ana shot straight up from bed and looked at her mum with wide eyes.  Hermione was laughing gently, thinking of how much her daughter was so much like her especially when it came to school.

Realizing that it was just a joke, Ana smiled and softly reprimanded her mother.  "Mum, don't scare me like that."

"Sorry honey," Hermione said, standing up from her daughter's bed and waiting for her daughter to follow.

About twenty minutes later, Ana was clean and changed and walking out of her room with her mum.  Hermione knocked on Draco's door and waited a few seconds until it opened and he stepped out.  He nodded curtly and walked alongside Ana, Hermione on her other side.  They were silent as they walked to the stairs and down to the dining room.

Ana grabbed hold of both Draco and Hermione's hand just before they entered.  Both Hermione and Draco looked at Ana before looking at each other, while Ana smiled and kept her gaze forward.

Outwardly, they were the picture of perfection.  Hermione complemented Draco perfectly.  His pale complexion balanced out her slightly darker color.  Her soft features balanced out his harder ones.  And surprisingly, Ana was a beautiful mixture of both, although she was only truly related to Hermione and not Draco.  But looks can be deceiving.

As they stepped into the dinning room, instead of hearing one voice, they heard two.

"Morning Malfoy family," came Blaise Zabini's distinguishable voice.  He was sitting at the dinning table, in the same seat he sat at just the night before, with a grin on his face.  Monsieur Deville sat in the same seat as well, drinking coffee with that day's issue of the Daily Prophet in front of him.  He looked up and smiled at the family.

As they sat down in their seats, with Draco remembering to pull out Hermione's seat for her, one of Draco's two maids brought out three plates full of eggs, bacon, and biscuits.

"Pray tell Zabini," began Draco, digging into his plate full of food, "why are you here?"

Blaise's face broke into a full grin as he answered back.  "What better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than with the best family around?"

Draco lifted an eyebrow.  "You have a family of your own Blaise"

"Ah yes," he said turning to face Monsieur Deville, "the misses is out shopping I believe and alas we have no children, like little Ana here."  Ana smiled brightly as Blaise winked at her.

They fell into polite conversation as they finished off their breakfast.  After breakfast, they all moved into the living room and sat around the fire.  Blaise and Draco sat on the couch while Monsieur Deville sat in the loveseat across from them.  They talked about everything from politics to their business deal to Quidditch.  Hermione and Ana sat on the floor, playing with the numerous amounts of muggle and wizard toys.

"So," began Blaise, "what shall we do today?"

"I was thinking that we just stay in the Manor today," answered Draco.

"Nonsense!" came Monsieur Deville's voice.  "It's a lovely December day, we shouldn't waste it indoors."

They all nodded as they fell into silence, thinking of what to do that day.  It was little Ana Granger's voice that broke through the silence.

"A picnic!" she squealed excitedly.  "Mum, dad," she turned to Hermione then to Draco, "may we please go on a picnic?"

"Well I suppose…"

"If it's ok with everyone…" Draco and Hermione said together, looking up at each other.  That whole "mum and dad" thing was still very strange, and a bit creepy.

Ana's face broke into a radiant smile as she hugged her mother and jumped up and hugged Draco as well.  She ran for the stairs, but before she could go any further Hermione's voice stopped her.

"Ana love," she said, "where are you going?"

"To my room mum, to get ready," came her reply.

"Do you need me to help you?"

"No thank you mummy," and with that she sped up the stairs and into her room.

Draco watched on with a sense of jealousy.  He could see that Hermione loved and cared for Ana very much, two things that his parents sure as hell didn't feel towards him.  Heck, things that no one has ever felt for him, ever.  He shook his head slightly, a move that Hermione only seemed to catch.

"A picnic would be a splendid idea," Monsieur Deville stated, standing up.  Blaise agreed as Monsieur Deville headed to the stairs and to his room to get ready as well.

"Well I'll be off making preparations for our little picnic, you just go and get ready and do whatever it is that couples in love do," Blaise smirked as he dodged the pillow that Draco had thrown at his head.  And then Blaise left, leaving Draco and Hermione alone in the living room.

Without a word or a look back, Draco stood up and walked to the foot of the stairs.

"Where are you going?" said Hermione, standing up abruptly from the floor.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.  "To get ready," he called back, slowly climbing up the stairs.

Hermione settled onto the couch for a bit before standing up and walking up the stairs as well.  She checked on her daughter first before walking into the massive Malfoy library.  Her eyes sparkled with something akin to pleasure as she walked along the shelves, running her hand along the spines of the books.  Although she still read, these days she had little time to read as much as she wanted.  She was either at work or spending time with her daughter.  At that moment, with the thousands of books and tomes around her, she felt like Christmas had come early.

Grabbing a book, she settled down into an armoire near the unlit fireplace and began to read.  So deep into the book, she didn't even realize that nearly an hour had passed and that it was already time to leave.

"Mum?" came Ana's little voice from the door of the library.  Hermione's head shot up, and she smiled back at her daughter.  "Mum, it's time to go."

Placing the book on the table, Hermione walked out of the library with her daughter.  Before heading downstairs though, she grabbed a jacket from her room and made sure that her daughter had one as well.

Draco had suggested to the group to have the little picnic of theirs on the beautiful grounds of Malfoy Manor.  The grounds were big, beautiful, and, most importantly, quiet and empty.  But Monsieur Deville, and Ana, insisted that they hold their picnic in a muggle park.  After much debate, a compromise was reached.  They would go to a wizard park, it looked exactly like a muggle park but it was free from the eyes of all muggles meaning they would be free to use magic and go flying if they wished.

Blaise, Monsieur Deville, and the Malfoy family made their way to the Malfoy family car.  After loading everything in the back, they got in and waited for Jeffrey to begin their drive.  They talked idly as the car made its way to the wizard park.

About half an hour later, the car made a stop, signaling their arrival at the park.  Draco stepped out of the car, again not showing the usual manners of a husband by forgetting to help Hermione out of the car as well.  Now, coming from a highly rich and somewhat respectable family, Draco knew his fair share of proper etiquette and knew exactly what to do in the presence of a lady.  He just refused to show these common courtesies to Hermione.

Thankfully for them, and everyone else at that park, it hadn't begun to snow yet.  It was still chilly, seeing as it was only weeks until winter officially began, but, with the proper jackets and scarves, the cold air was tolerable.

They made their way to a spot just under a large tree, charmed never to lose its leaves.  Hermione and Ana, with the help of Blaise and Monsieur Deville, spread out a large blanket and proceeded to set out the food that they had brought in a large basket, charmed to weigh as light as a feather of course.  Draco stood watching, waiting for them to finish.

While they were setting up the blanket and the food, Hermione noticed that Draco brought his broom, Monsieur Deville brought a book, and Blaise brought the paper works needed for the business deal.  Hermione mentally berated herself for not bringing something to occupy her time with as well.  She sighed as she sat down, settled in, and prepared herself for the long day ahead of her.

After eating, Ana ran off with Monsieur Deville and Blaise.  Monsieur Deville truly was a family man and Blaise had a real knack with children, if only Monique could see that.  They were running and playing and laughing, overall just enjoying themselves.  That left Draco and Hermione sitting alone, together, on the picnic blanket.

Hermione watched Blaise, Monsieur Deville, and Ana with a smile.  Blaise was giving Ana a piggyback ride as they chased after Monsieur Deville.  Soon, the tables were turned on Blaise, and he ran away laughing and doing everything possible to get caught.  Hermione laughed as Ana jumped on top of Blaise, sending him and herself to the ground and laughing hysterically.

"Odd man, that one," Hermione said, more to herself than to Draco.

Draco chuckled as he watched Blaise tickle Ana while Monsieur Deville was trying desperately to save the little girl from Blaise's torture.  "You have no idea," he responded.

Hermione turned to Draco, the light in her eyes revealing the humor and overall good mood she was in.  "How long have you known Zabini?"

"Twenty six years"

"Your whole life?"

He nodded at her as she regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"You two never strike me as really close friends back at Hogwarts," she countered.

"We Slytherins are cold, unfeeling, evil bastards who never made any friends…well at least that's what all the other houses thought of us anyway," he replied.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then her expression turned to one of embarrassment and shame as she turned her head away from him.  The other three houses at Hogwarts really did think very lowly of the Slytherins.  Not once did any house attempt to reach out and actually try and get to know one Slytherin.  _Shame really_, Hermione thought, _they're not half bad._

"I'm so-" she was about to apologize when he interrupted her.

"Don't be," he said, shaking his head and smirking.  "Your assumptions are true.  We ARE cold, unfeeling, and are, in general, evil wizards and witches."

She rolled her eyes and smiled slightly.  She turned back to Blaise, Ana, and Monsieur Deville.  Ana was sitting in Monsieur Deville's lap on the grass while Blaise was performing a "magic show" using simple charms with his wand.

"Explain that one," Hermione said, indicating to where Blaise was standing.

"Ah Blaise Zabini," Draco began, turning his attention back to the "magic show."  Blaise just transfigured a flower into a rabbit and was now changing its color from green, to silver, to gold, then back to green.  "Honestly, I don't know."

"From what I know of him, and of what I've learned," began Hermione, "he seems more suited to have been in Hufflepuff, maybe even Gryffindor, than Slytherin."

Draco shook his head as he turned back to her.  "He's as Slytherin as they come.  He's just…" he shook his head again.  "There are no words to describe Zabini.  He's the Eighth Wonder of the World."

Somehow Hermione didn't doubt him there.  They turned back to the scene in front of them.  They fell into silence as they watched the crazy antics of one Blaise Zabini.

Soon, Ana, Monsieur Deville, and Blaise returned, breathless and still laughing slightly.  They each grabbed drinks as they sat down on the blanket.  The little picnic of theirs was turning out to be a very good idea.  It was fun, if not a little awkward at silent pauses in their conversation, and Monsieur Deville was buying every bit of the "family act."

Draco stood up and stretched then bent down and revealed his broom.  It was the newest version of the Firebolt.

Ana's eyes instantly brightened and twinkled as soon as she saw the broom.  She was always one for flying, although her mum hated it with a passion.  She would always beg her Uncle Ron to allow her to fly with him when her mum visited Uncle Ron and Aunt Lavender.  She loved the feeling of the wind against her skin, ruffling up her hair.  She loved the butterflies she would get in her stomach when she'd fly fast and do tricks up in the air.  But the best part about flying to her was it gave her a connection to her dad.  Her dad was a Quidditch player and she loved flying, obviously she had acquired that trait from him.

Draco saw Ana's reaction instantly and smiled at the little girl.  She obviously hadn't got her love for flying from Hermione, because EVERYONE knew that if there was one thing Hermione Granger was afraid of, it would be flying.

"Would you like to fly with me love?" he asked softly.

She looked at him with a large smile and nodded her head vigorously.

"Now wait a minute," interrupted Hermione.  She was always hesitant in allowing her daughter to fly.  She rarely even let her fly with Ron and Harry and they were her best friends.  She didn't trust Draco enough to let Ana fly with him.  Hell, she didn't trust him period.

"Please mum?" Ana turned to her with a hopeful look.  She had what could be termed as her "puppy dog" face, guaranteed to make even the hardest of hearts melt.

Hermione waggled a finger at her daughter.  "Not this time."

Ana pouted then scowled as she took a sip of her butterbear.

"Come on Hermione," Draco said.

Hermione's head shot up as he referred to her by her first name.  It wasn't like he said it any different than anyone else, it just sounded foreign coming from his mouth.  And it had seemed so natural to him.  Creepy.

Draco smirked at her reaction.  She rolled her eyes as she caught him smirking.

"I won't hurt her," he sighed exasperatedly.  "Don't you trust me love?" he pouted and looked at her with HIS "puppy dog" face.

She forced a smile on her face as she answered him, aware that both Blaise and Monsieur Deville were watching with interest now.

"Of course I trust you darling," she said.  She sighed.  "Fine, but don't go too fast, and don't do too many tricks, and be careful when-"

"I know," he interrupted.  Ana jumped up and hugged her mum and walked over to Draco.  She positioned herself behind Draco and held on tightly as if her life depended on it, which technically it did.

Hermione wrung her hands together as Draco kicked off from the ground and slowly ascended into the sky. He went slowly at first, and then his speed increased.  He wasn't going as fast as if he was chasing after the snitch.  But he was going fast enough for Hermione to suddenly break into a cold sweet and decide, not for the first time that day, to hex Draco for making her agree with him.

She turned her head away from the flying duo, afraid that she would see the very unfortunate end of her life from a heart attack, or better yet the end of one particular blonde haired git from a very powerful Aveda Kedvra.  She tried getting into Blaise and Monsieur Deville's conversation, adding the occasional nod and laugh when appropriate, but her gaze seemed to flicker to the two heads of blonde hair flying through the sky.

"Oh thank god," she breathed out as soon as Draco landed and Ana jumped off, smiling and laughing, hair tousled every which way.  Draco was smiling as well, which was quite a change, and his hair was disheveled too.

"Madame Malfoy, why don't you fly with your husband?" Monsieur Deville offered with a smile.  Hermione's eyes widened in horror as Draco's twinkled with mischief and mirth.  _Oh bloody hell_ she thought with dread.  _Bloody brilliant_ Draco thought with a smirk.

"Yes love," he held out a hand for her, "come fly with me."

"Oh no I really don't think-" Hermione scooted away from him.

"Nonsense!" laughed Monsieur Deville.

She was about to cry.  She hated flying, hated it almost as much as she hated the now non-existent Voldemort.  She looked at Monsieur Deville with wide eyes, then at Malfoy.  He was smirking.  _Typical_ she thought.  He was trying very hard not to laugh.  Bastard knew she was afraid of flying and he was going to milk it for all it was worth.

"Go on mum," Ana nudged her.  She smiled reassuringly at her as Hermione turned to look at her.

"Fine," she finally said.  She grabbed hold of his outstretched hand as he pulled her up and towards him.

"I promise to go slow," he smirked as he lovingly kissed her hand.  She was fuming now.  Stupid git.  Her fingers clenched under his lips.  Oh how she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

She positioned herself behind him and hesitantly grabbed hold of his waist.  Her hold tightened as soon as she felt herself rising.  Her eyes were closed and her head was buried into his back.  She was now clutching his waist so tightly that he could barely breathe.

"I can't breathe Granger," he told her as he sped up.

She mumbled something against his back and loosened her death grip a bit.  She was still clutching on to him for her dear life, but he could now easily breathe.

He did tricks in the air, reminiscent of his old Seeker days at Hogwarts.  He could practically feel Hermione tremble behind him.  It was fun torturing her, he was positively giggly.  A thought popped into his head and the snarkiest of smirks graced his features.

He released one hand from the broom, placing it over one of Hermione's.  He heard her gasp slightly as his hand made contact with hers.  He wanted to pull this off perfectly, but he didn't want her to die or get hurt in the process.  He squeezed her hand and moved it tighter around his waist, indicating that he wanted her to grab hold, which she did without complaint.  He moved his hand back onto the broom and went slowly at first, doing little tricks and dives.  Then he stopped, as if he was back on the pitch at Hogwarts and he had just spotted the snitch.  Suddenly, he dove down toward the ground, Hermione's screams and very colorful language ringing through the air.  The ground came rushing up to meet them, faster and faster they dove.  He pulled back abruptly, hovering only three meters above the ground.  He just pulled off the Wronski Feint.

Hermione saw her whole life flash behind her closed eyelids.  She was terrified out of her mind as soon as she began to dive forward.  She knew her choice of foul words was a bit much, but who would ever bother with what she had said if she was dead by the time she hit the ground?  Oh she would kill Draco Malfoy.  If she died and he didn't, she would come back as a ghost and haunt him for all his days.  If he died and she didn't, she would bring him to life only to kill him again.  And then it stopped.  She could hear Draco's laughter and feel it as she tightened her hold on Draco even more, if that was at all possible.  Her eyes were still closed as she felt the ground beneath her feet.

As soon as her feet were planted firmly in the ground, she roughly shoved Draco off his broom, causing him to fall over and onto the ground.  He was clutching his stomach and rolling around in the grass, tears of mirth escaping through his shut eyelids.  She was seething and fuming.  She could have died and all he was doing was laughing?

"You-You," she was at a loss for words.  Ana, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville bounded up towards them with a smile on their lips.  "You bastard!  I can't believe you just did that Malfoy!  We could have died!  You no good, evil, arsehole, Slytherin scum!  Oh I could just rip you up, tear up all your intestines and bash in your "beautiful" face.  I would hit you with an Aveda so powerful-"

Draco was laughing so hard now that he feared that he wouldn't get enough oxygen in his lungs.  The look on her face at that moment, oh it was priceless.  He was rolling around on the grass trying desperately to stop laughing.  Hermione was fuming and growing redder by the second.  Monsieur Deville, Ana, and Blaise looked from Draco to Hermione.

"I could just kill you Malfoy," she said darkly.

After a few more moments of dark threats and incessant laughter, Draco turned up to the sky and spread his arms and legs.  He was breathing heavily and a half smile, half smirk found permanent residence on his face.  He gracefully pulled himself off the ground and brushed off dirt as Hermione spat curse after curse at him.

"Relax Granger," he finally said.  "You didn't die.  And besides, I knew what I was doing, I wasn't going to kill you."

She snorted and mumbled something along the lines of "Bloody liar would kill me if given the chance."  He narrowed his eyes.  Fearing a fight, and already antsy that Hermione and Draco reverted back to their usual ways, Blaise stepped in between Draco and Hermione.

"Watch it Granger"

"Is that a threat Malfoy?"

"Ok" Blaise interrupted.  He laughed uncomfortably and looked at Monsieur Deville.  His eyebrows were scrunched up and he was wondering why two people so in love like Hermione and Draco were ready to Aveda each other on the spot.  And why were they calling each other Granger and Malfoy.

"Granger?" he turned to Hermione.  "Malfoy?" he then faced Draco.  "I do not understand."

"Pet names," Blaise said to Monsieur Deville.  He smiled shakily at the older man, hoping that he would buy his excuse.  Which he did.

Hermione glared at Draco and he glared back.  Blaise had to stop this now before their whole plan blows up in their face.  He grabbed Draco's left ear and Hermione's right and began walking backwards, away from Ana and Monsieur Deville.

"Excuse us," he said.  He dragged along Hermione and Draco by their ears.  They were protesting and cursing loudly.  Blaise had one hell of a grip.

As they reached their destination, far enough that Ana and Monsieur Deville couldn't hear a word passed between them but close enough where they could still see them, Blaise released hold of their ears.  They gingerly rubbed their throbbing earlobes as Blaise turned to them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he barked out with a bit of an edge to his voice.  Blaise rarely got angry, and he very rarely got angry with Draco.  But when he did, heaven, earth, and hell be damned.

"Watch it Zabini," Draco warned with a glare, clearly not enjoying the reprimanding from Blaise.  Blaise just rolled his eyes and ignored Draco, an act only Blaise himself would be able to pull off without suffering the wrath of Draco Malfoy.

"Do you want to mess this up?" he asked pointedly to Draco.  "And you," he turned to Hermione.  She flinched under his cold glare.  "Do you want three thousand galleons?"

"It's not my fault-" she began indignantly.

"Granger started it!" he cut in, glaring daggers at Hermione.

"I did NOT start it," she half yelled.

"And I suppose I did?" he rolled his eyes.

"Oh you bastard-" she began, her temper rising with each word he spoke.

"Enough!" Blaise's voice boomed between both of them.  They turned their attention to him and away from one another.  "You," he pointed at Draco.  "Apologize, not a word."  Draco's mouth instantly closed.  "And you," he turned around and pointed at Hermione.  "Apologize as well."

They looked at him incredulously.  Was he serious?  But the look in his eyes told them that he was dead set in having them apologize.  None of them looked like they would be leaving until both Draco and Hermione apologized.  Sighing and rolling their eyes, they did just that.  Apologized.

"Sorry," grumbled out Draco.

"Sorry," returned Hermione.

Blaise's hard features melted and just like that his carefree, nonchalant attitude and smile were back.  He clapped both of them on the back and led them back to Monsieur Deville and Ana.

"Now, no more of that," he said just before arriving back to the other two.  "Understand?"

Draco scoffed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Please I am not a child," said Draco.

"The more you act like one, the more I'll treat you like one," Blaise responded, garnering a glare from his blonde haired boss.

"One more day," Hermione reminded herself.  "Just one more day."  From her right side, she could hear Draco snort derisively and mutter incoherently.  She glared at him, and he back at her.  'Oh like you're not thinking that' her eyes seemed to say. 

"No worries," Blaise said as soon as they stepped in front of Monsieur Deville and Ana.  "Just one of their many rows."  Blaise smiled at Monsieur Deville, which in turn made him smile back.  Draco and Hermione forced a small smile onto their faces.

The rest of the day spent at the wizard park passed without anything happening.  Hermione was still sour about the whole Wronski Feint incident and Draco wouldn't stop smirking, even though he was yelled at by both Hermione and Blaise.

Soon the sun was setting and day was slowly fading away.  They cleaned up their area beneath the tree and loaded the Malfoy car with all their belongings.  The ride home was mostly silent, they were all either too tired or just didn't have anything to say.

As soon as they arrived back at Malfoy Manor, they were greeted with the smell of dinner waiting for them in the dinning room.  They dropped their stuff in the foyer and headed to dinner.

Dinner was uneventful as well.  Small conversation was made.  This time, instead of Hermione and Ana excusing themselves before everyone else, they all walked up stairs together.  Blaise bid goodnight to everyone and headed for the study to floo home to his wife.  Hermione helped Ana get ready for bed while Draco and Monsieur Deville chatted just outside the library.

Hermione walked over to them after finishing with Ana.  Draco and Hermione said their goodnights to Monsieur Deville and walked towards Draco's room together.  He put his arm around her shoulders and felt her stiffen.

He leaned into her and whispered, "He's watching," against her ear.  Slowly, she put her arms around his waist, and together they walked into Draco's room with Monsieur Deville watching them the whole way.

They changed and got ready for bed, Hermione again using Draco's clothing for her pajamas.  They settled into their respective sleeping areas, Draco on the couch and Hermione on the bed, and turned off the lights.

"Goodnight Granger," Draco said after a while.

"Goodnight Malfoy."


	6. The Fun Has Just Begun

A/n: Thank you so very much for all the reviews.  Words seriously cannot express how thankful I am that you all enjoy my story.  Thank you once again.

And I am sorry for not updating sooner, but life got in the way.  School is getting harder and I can't promise you all a chapter a week like I had been doing for the first five chapters.  Sorry.  I can try and promise you all two chapters a month, that is if the story goes as smoothly as I anticipate and hope it will.  And if you don't like my amount of updates, or lack there of, well…deal with it.

Chapter 6 The Fun Has Just Begun 

It was the last day of their punishment.  Monsieur Deville would be leaving for France later that evening and Draco didn't ever have to see Hermione again, and vice versa.  Hermione was practically giddy when she awoke.  Remembering where she was this time, Hermione silently slid out of bed, careful not to wake Draco in the process.  Grabbing her wand and with a hushed "Lumos," Hermione silently walked to the bedroom door and slipped out of the room.

Heading to her room, Hermione noticed that it was only 5:45 in the morning.  Five years of having to wake up at the crack of dawn had become part of her morning rituals.  Even when she didn't have to go in for work, which was highly unlikely except for a few occasions like that morning, she was always the first to rise.  She was a morning person, even back in Hogwarts.

She walked into her room and headed straight for her bathroom, ready to immerse herself in a long and fulfilling bath.  After turning on the warm water and allowing it to fill the bathtub, Hermione stripped out of her clothing and stepped into the bathtub.  She situated herself in the tub and relaxed in the calming warm water.  Soon, she found herself asleep in the large tub.

About forty-five minutes later, Hermione awoke in a tub filled with cold water.  Quickly finishing her bath, Hermione exited the bathroom, bathrobe wrapped tightly around her and hair wrapped securely in a towel.  Fishing through her luggage for a modest skirt and top, Hermione dressed and set her hair in plaits.

When she was done dressing, she headed to the library, for it was still too early to wake her daughter.  She grabbed the book she had been reading the day before and immersed herself entirely in it.

The chiming of the grandfather clocked, signaling that it was already seven o'clock, brought Hermione back to the real world.  She put the book down on the nearby coffee table, not bothering to put it back to where she found it.

She made her way to her daughter's room and silently slid in.  Waking her daughter had always been a chore, and that day was no exception.  After Ana was cleaned and clothed, both Granger girls walked down to the dinning room where Monsieur Deville was sitting at one end of the dinning table, the Daily Prophet in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.  He looked up from the newspaper and smiled at mother and daughter as they made their way to their seats.  Surprisingly, Blaise Zabini wasn't enjoying a nice breakfast with the Malfoy's.  Yet.

About fifteen minutes later, Draco and (surprise, surprise) Blaise walked down the stairs and into the dinning room.  Draco headed directly to Hermione and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.  Surprised to all extent, Hermione did her best not to show her total shock.  She swallowed hard and smiled weakly at Draco, who half smiled half smirked at her.  He then moved to Ana and kissed her on the check as well, which she reciprocated without a second a thought.

As both boys sat down, Hermione noticed the look that both Draco and Blaise shared.  Obviously Blaise had told Draco to "turn up the heat," so to speak.  And frankly, that was as much heat as Draco would allow, and Hermione was all too glad about that.

"Morning family," Blaise said, a large grin spreading over his face.  "And Monsieur Deville," he added, turning to the elder wizard.

Breakfast was served to Draco and Blaise and idle conversation was made before Hermione and Ana excused themselves, stating that it was time to take Ana to school.

Hermione and Ana headed to Draco's study to floo back to their flat, which was walking distance to Ana's muggle school.  Draco, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville stayed behind a bit, chatting about Quidditch and the new developments in the wizarding world.

Hermione flooed back onto Malfoy Manor just as Draco, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville stepped into the study, ready to floo out.

Draco stepped forward and took his "wife's" hand in his, and kissed it softly.  He smirked at her, his back facing Monsieur Deville and Blaise.  He winked, knowing that she was incapable of doing anything, unless she wanted Monsieur Deville to think their marriage was a farce, which it was.  So instead, she smiled lovingly at him and smiled politely at Blaise and Monsieur Deville, stealthily yanking her hand out of Draco's.

"We'll be off to work now, love," Draco said to her.  "Will you be fine here?"

"I'll manage," she replied, the sarcasm caught only by Draco.

Hermione bid farewell to each of the men as they stepped into the fireplace and flooed to Draco's office at Malfoy Industries.  Draco was the last to go.  And as he stepped into the fireplace, he stepped back out and turned to Hermione.

"You have free roam over the Manor, and you're free to go anywhere you wish," he said to her.  "But make sure that you're back by the time we return from work, which will probably be around six.  Understand?"  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Yes, _master_," she replied sarcastically, stressing the word master.  He glared at her for a moment and she at him.

"Granger," he warned.

"Malfoy," she countered.

He sighed and turned back to the fireplace, throwing the green floo powder into the fireplace and saying "Malfoy Industries."

_Free roam_ Hermione thought as she exited the study.  There were so many thing that she could do, like looking for embarrassing pictures of Draco that she could possibly black mail him with.  But that was so seventh year, and Hermione was now twenty-six.  But still, the thought of embarrassing Draco tremendously brought an evil glint to her eyes.

Hermione thought better of it though as she passed the library.  Stopping suddenly in the hallway, she backtracked and stood right outside the library.  Now would be a good time to catch up on her reading, with no child to watch over and no work or responsibilities to attend to.

Before stepping foot inside the library though, Hermione walked back down to the kitchens and asked one of the two maids if they could kindly make her a cup of hot chocolate, which they did with a smile and a nod.

Heading back upstairs with a large and steaming cup of hot chocolate, Hermione walked straight into the Malfoy library.  She set down her mug on top of the coffee table and flicked her wand, immediately starting a fire.  It was unnaturally cold in Malfoy Manor.  She picked up the book she was reading earlier that morning and delved deep into it.

The morning passed quickly, with Hermione reading every book she could get her hands on, her eyes alight with excitement and joy.  She hadn't read that much in one sitting since before Ana was born, and hadn't realized how much she missed it till that moment.  But she wouldn't trade her daughter for all the books and time in the world.

The grandfather clock struck twelve o'clock.  A little house elf popped into the library, startling Hermione a bit.  The house elf looked sheepish, but continued on his way towards her.

"Excuse me Miss Hermione," he said, wringing the cloth he called clothes between his hands.  "Lunch is ready.  Would you like Tizzy to bring you lunch?"

Hermione smiled at the little house elf.  "Thank you Tizzy," she responded.  "I would like that very much."

The elf disappeared with a pop and moments later, reappeared with a tray of delicious food and warm butterbear.  Hermione hungrily dug into it, careful not to spill anything on the expensive chair or the carpet.  She finished her meal and was heading downstairs with her tray full of dirty dishes when Tizzy appeared and took the tray away from her.  She protested and told him that she was capable of doing it, but Tizzy just insisted that it was his job to serve her.  Grudgingly, she gave in and handed the tray to him and sat back down on the chair.

Hermione picked up a book, but found that she just couldn't get into it.  She enjoyed reading, but there was a certain amount of books a person could handle for one day.  Shock of all shocks, Hermione Granger didn't actually want to read.  So she _had_ changed since her Hogwarts days.  Hermione faintly smiled as she thought of what to do to occupy herself.  One word came to mind.

Ginny

*~*

Draco sat across the table from Blaise and Monsieur Deville at the Leaky Cauldron.  Draco insisted on a much more formal restaurant, but Monsieur Deville waved him off and insisted on visiting the famous Diagon Alley and dinning at the just as famous Leaky Cauldron.

All that morning, nothing was said of the business deal.  It was the last day of Monsieur Deville's stay, and he still hadn't given the 'Ok' on Malfoy Industries' proposition.  Fearing that he'd have to stay for a bit longer, Draco suddenly spoke up, rudely interrupting Blaise and Monsieur Deville's conversation.

"So Monsieur Deville, what of our business proposition?" he said.  Both heads turned to him and Draco cleared his throat in obvious embarrassment.  "I apologize, do continue."

"No, no," responded Blaise.  "We were just finishing."

"Oui Monsieur Malfoy," Monsieur Deville chimed in, "But let us not talk about this right now.  First we eat, then we talk business."

Draco smiled slightly, for lack of anything better to do.  He had half the nerve to yell at the older man.  His patience was wearing thin and he wanted to know NOW, at that very instant, if they had a deal or not.  But he knew it wouldn't do good to resort back to 'spoilt little boy Draco.'

Draco sighed just as the food was being brought to them.  If the amount of talking Blaise and Monsieur Deville were doing was to continue, Draco knew that it would be a very long time until they were finished eating.  And an even longer time until he got his answer.

*~*

Ginny Potter was cleaning the living room, softly humming a tune as she pointed her wand to the dirty dishes in the sink and magically made them clean themselves.  Harry was off at work at the Ministry and she didn't have to watch Ana that day.  If not for her cleaning, Ginny would be extremely bored.  She was much like her mother in that department.

"Ginny?" a soft voice called out from the fireplace.  Ginny turned around and was greeted with the sight of one of her best friends, Hermione Granger.

"Hermione," Ginny squealed, running over to the couch and proceeding to fall upon it.

"Good day to you too," Hermione responded, laughing slightly.  "Would you mind terribly if I came over for a bit?  The Manor is awfully large and quite boring."

"Of course not Hermione!" responded Ginny.  "You're welcome here anytime.  Besides, it's just as boring here as it is there."

With one last smile, Hermione's head disappeared from the fireplace.  Moments later, she appeared in the Potter's fireplace, brushing off soot from her skirt and shirt.

 "Never enjoyed flooing," she commented as she gave Ginny a large hug.

Ginny laughed at her statement.  "Then why floo?"

She smiled at her friend.  "Because Malfoy is paranoid and believes everyone is out to kill him.  Honestly.  His Manor is not on any map, no one can apparate in or out, and flooing can only be done in his study.  Odd man that one," she explained as Ginny lead her to the couch.

"So how is life as Mrs. Malfoy?" Ginny asked with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a small snort.

"That bad?" remarked Ginny.  "He can't be that bad, can he?"

Hermione shot her an incredulous look where Ginny just proceeded to laugh.

"Okay, okay," Ginny responded, "stupid question, I know.  Of course he's that bad.  This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about."

Hermione shook her head.  "No he's not that bad," she began, "he's worse, _much_ worse."

"Poor girl," Ginny responded with a slight pout.  She smiled as Hermione playfully whacked her arm.

"And the worse part," continued Hermione, "is that Zabini is _always_ there.  I mean _always, _reminding us to carry along like a married couple.  And when we don't, he treats us like bloody children."

Ginny laughed and squeezed Hermione's hand affectionately.  "Don't worry, love.  This is the last day you'll have to put up with them."

Hermione smiled at her friend.  "Thankfully."

Silence followed.

"So," cut in Ginny, "what brings a Malfoy such as yourself to the Potter household?"

 She rolled her eyes again.  "I am extremely, utterly, mind numbingly…bored."

"Join the club, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Ginny!"

Again, another laugh from the youngest Weasley child.  "I'm sorry 'Mione, but it's just too good an opportunity to pass up."

"I'm glad someone," she stared directly at Ginny, "is enjoying this torture.  Because Merlin knows I'm not."

Ginny just shook her head and chose to ignore this statement.  "So how is Ana doing?"

"Honestly," began Hermione, "she's doing much better than Malfoy or I have been.  She'd make a wonderful actress.  But enough of this subject.  How are _you_ doing?"

Ginny smiled at her friend.  "Harry and I are fine.  He's still painfully oblivious to the fact that I want children.  I drop hints all the time, but yet…" Ginny sighed as she trailed off.

"Boys will be boys," Hermione said, draping an arm around Ginny, trying to comfort her friend.

"I know Hermione," she sighed then.  "But it's just so frustrating!"

Hermione laughed.  "You'd think living with a father and six brothers would have prepared you for this."

Ginny joined in Hermione's laughter.  She got up from the couch and brought out a tray of tea and scones.  Ginny poured two cups of tea, one for herself and one for Hermione.

"Besides," Hermione began as she stirred her tea, "that just means more practice until you're burdened with a child."  She smirked a very Malfoy like smirk at her friend's shocked face.

"What a horrid thing to say!" Ginny's face broke into a large grin.  She laughed along with her friend.   "I believe you're husband is rubbing off on you, Hermione Malfoy!"

"Ginny Potter!"

*~*

Draco Malfoy was getting very irritated.  It was already two o'clock.  They had been in the Leaky Cauldron for close to two hours already and still Monsieur Deville hadn't given him a definite yes or no answer.  Hell, Blaise and Monsieur Deville still weren't finished with their desserts.  _Bloody Blaise_ Draco thought, glaring at his raven-haired friend, _never shuts up_.

As if sensing his impatience, Blaise hurriedly finished his cheesecake and called for the check.  _Now we're getting somewhere_ thought Draco as he sat up in his chair.

"If you don't mind Monsieur Deville," began Blaise, "but I believe we should start talking about the business deal."

"I suppose," answered Monsieur Deville, quickly finishing his dessert as well.

Draco quickly paid for the lunch and they all stood up to apparate back to Draco's office back at Malfoy Industries.

As soon as they appeared in his office, Draco walked straight to his desk.  He pulled out two chairs for Blaise and Monsieur Deville and sat down in his chair.

"Now on to business," Draco stated.

"I have gone over the terms for this deal," Monsieur Deville started.  Blaise and Draco listened with baited breath.  "And I accept."

A big whoop was heard from Blaise as Draco let out a large breath.  A huge burden felt like it was lifted from his shoulders; he had gotten the business deal that his father had been trying to secure since before his death and he needn't have to see Granger ever again after today.

"So all production will now be done from France I suppose?" Monsieur Deville asked.

"Of course," replied Draco.

"And for the time being, all Ready for Wear stores will merge with Gladrags?"

 "If that is what you wish for, then yes."

"That would mean a considerable amount of employees would have to be fired," Monsieur Deville explained.

"Yes, it seems that way," Draco responded, not even considering the many workers that he would have to be firing.

"Alright," Monsieur Deville clapped his hands together and smiled brightly at Draco and Blaise.  "You have got yourself a deal Monsieur Malfoy."

*~*

After having tea with Ginny, Hermione apparated to her flat and walked to Ana's school to wait until for her daughter.

Immediately spotting her mum, Ana ran towards Hermione and engulfed her in an enormous hug.

"How was school darling?" Hermione asked as she disentangled herself from her daughter and took her hand.

"It was absolutely wonderful!" Ana said, with a passion for school that could possible rival that of her mother's.

They walked back to their flat, hand in hand; Ana telling her mum of all the wonderful things that happened at school and Hermione listening to her daughter and nodding along.  Soon, they reached their flat.  Before flooing back to Malfoy Manor though, Hermione prepared a little snack for her daughter: chocolate chip cookies and milk.

It was still earl.  They flooed back to Malfoy Manor at a little past three o'clock.  They had about three hours until Blaise, Draco, and Monsieur Deville arrived home.  Hermione spent that time with her daughter.  It was very rare to have free moments with her daughter, and she cherished every moment they could spend together.

At around 5:30, the three men returned from Malfoy Industries.  They found Hermione and her daughter in the library.  They were both sitting on a couch, Ana leaning against her mother while Hermione placed an arm around her daughter's shoulder, playing with her dark blonde hair.  Hermione was reading a children's book to Ana.  Despite himself, Draco smiled slightly at the little family.  They weren't rich, far from it, but they were happy.

Blaise cleared his throat loudly, informing the small family of their arrival.  Ana smiled brightly as she looked up from the book.  She stood from the couch and ran to Draco and hugged him.

"Hello sweetie," he said, taking her into his arms.  "How was your day?"

"It was great daddy," she responded.  He kissed her on the forehead and set her back on the floor.  Blaise winked at Ana and she just smiled brightly back, the exchange unnoticed by Monsieur Deville.

Ana took hold of Draco's hand and dragged him across the library and towards the couch where Hermione was sitting.  Ana sat down next to Hermione and pulled Draco down towards them.  He positioned himself on the couch and absentmindedly put his arm around Ana's shoulders.

Blaise and Monsieur Deville followed, taking seats opposite the "family" sitting on the couch.  They sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the sound of the crackling fire.

Finally, Draco spoke up.  "What do you say to a formal dinner?"  With inquisitive looks from the three adults, he elaborated.  "Not like the dinner we had last night but like the one we had when Monsieur Deville first arrived.  To wish you," he turned to Monsieur Deville, "off properly.  And to celebrate our new deal."

With that statement, Hermione turned to Draco, who was gleaming with pride.  She was happy for him, but she was even more ecstatic knowing that after that night, it would all be over.

"That's wonderful _darling_," Hermione cooed, with just a hint of sarcasm behind her voice.  Heaven forbid if she openly congratulated a Malfoy for one of their achievements.

He turned to her then, smirked and raised an eyebrow.  She bowed her head as a sign of congratulations.  His face broke out in a semi smile and he bowed his head to her as well.

Draco then called for one of his maids, telling her to prepare an elegant dinner for that night.  When she replied that she'll inform the house elves, Hermione tensed up for a bit then opened her mouth to retort, no doubt something about house elves rights and what not.  Blaise, seeing her temper slowly rising, furiously shook his head, making sure Monsieur Deville didn't catch the whole thing.  Her mouth snapped shut and she glared slightly at him.

"Monsieur Zabini," began Monsieur Deville, "I have been here for two days already, and not once have I seen your beautiful wife.  If it is ok with Monsieur Malfoy, I would very much like to meet her."

Both men turned to the family sitting on the couch then.  "Yes," Draco nodded, "do invite Monique for dinner tonight Blaise.  That's a wonderful idea."

Blaise was beaming as he stood from the couch, bowed his head, and walked to the study to floo back home and pick up his beautiful wife.  The other four occupants in the room waited silently until they heard the door to the library open, and in walked Monique and Blaise Zabini.  As usual, Monique looked stunningly gorgeous in her skirt and top.  Blaise took her hand and led her to the couches.

Standing up, Monsieur Deville took Monique's hand and planted a soft kiss on it.  "Madame Zabini, it is a pleasure to meet you," he said as he released her hand.

"Please," she said with a bright smile, "the pleasure is all mine."

After a few minutes of talking, Monique grabbed both Hermione and Ana's hand and dragged them out of the library, saying something about getting ready for dinner.  The men shook their head and laughed as the door to the library shut behind the girls.

"Ok," Monique said from inside the room Hermione should have been using.  "Again, first thing…shower.  Now off.  Go."  She smiled as Hermione rolled her eyes half-heartedly and smiled back at her.  Hermione took hold of her daughter's hand and went in the bathroom to shower and to clean her daughter as well.

The preparations for dinner passed by in a blur.  While the women fretted about hair and makeup, the men sat leisurely in the library discussing nothing in particular.  Monique preformed a spell to tame Hermione's unruly curls, making them straighter but not completely straight.  This time though, Hermione left her hair down.  Monique then set Ana's hair in plaits.  After hair and makeup, they changed into their dress robes; Hermione in an emerald green, off the shoulder dress robe, Ana in pale yellow dress robes, and Monique, who had brought a robe with her, in champagne colored dress robes.

At exactly 7:30, them three men stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the women to come down to start dinner.  All three were wearing elegant dress robes as well; Draco in gray, Blaise in a very dark burgundy, and Monsieur Deville in the traditional black.  All three looked impeccable and devilishly handsome.  Draco's hair was slicked back, his usual hairstyle for when he attended formal events, and Blaise set his in messy spikes.

Soon, the women finally made their appearance and were slowly descending the stairs, Monique first followed by Hermione and Ana.  Like the first night, Draco was spell bounded by the sight of Hermione.  He was again reminded of how beautiful she really was.  Unlike Monique's stunning, car-stopping beauty, Hermione was more of a natural beauty, whose true elegance and beauty radiated from within.

Draco took Hermione's arm and Blaise Monique's and walked to the dinning room.  Monsieur Deville offered his arm to Ana, who took it with a toothy grin.  They followed the two couples, Monsieur Deville laughing as Ana bounced along.

Dinner went by without a hitch.  They all enjoyed their meals without any questions about the Malfoy's marriage or anything else of the sort.  Instead, Monsieur Deville asked Monique and Blaise questions of their marriage and their courtship.  If Hermione ever doubted the love between Blaise and Monique, they were all put to rest that night.  Throughout dinner, Blaise and Monique would constantly look up at one another, for they sat across from each other, and smile, eyes filled with so much love it would have been sickening if it weren't just so sweet.  Hermione felt a slight pang in her heart, memories of times past when she was that much in love.  She looked down at her food and let out a soft sigh, noticed by only Ana, who shot her mum a worried glance, and Draco who was more curios than concerned.

"I am sorry but I have to be off," Monique said as she stood up from the dinning table.  "I have an early day tomorrow."  She said goodbye to everyone at the table before she was escorted to back home by Blaise.  He returned shortly with a faint smile on his lips.

Taking their lead, Hermione walked over to Ana and took her to bed as well.  But not before she properly said goodnight to everyone.  She hugged Blaise and Monsieur Deville and kissed them lightly on the cheek.

"Goodnight daddy," she said as she hugged Draco.  Not as surprised as when she first did and said that, Draco wrapped his arms around the little girl.  To Draco, it was still odd to be called daddy.

"Goodnight love," he said as he kissed her on the forehead.

Hermione went up the stairs and into Ana's room, tucking her into bed.  When she came back downstairs, she was greeted with the sight of Draco, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville all standing around in the living room with Monsieur Deville's suitcases on both sides of him.  Hermione walked across the room and stood by Draco, across from Monsieur Deville.

"Monsieur Malfoy," he firmly gripped Draco's hand.  "Madame Malfoy," he took hold of Hermione's hand and lightly kissed it.  "Thank you for your kindness and generosity.  If ever you are in Paris, remember to drop by and visit."

Both smiled at him as they continued to say their goodbyes.  Soon, it was time for Monsieur Deville to leave.  Grabbing his suitcase, Blaise lead Monsieur Deville to the car, Draco and Hermione standing in the living room watching them exit.

A deep sigh escaped both their lips.

They turned to each other, not knowing what exactly to do.  Draco extended his right hand, and after a few moments of hesitation, Hermione took it and shook it firmly.  Draco bowed his head in thanks; the closest Hermione would ever get to a formal "thank you."

"I'll transfer the three thousand galleons to your Gringotts account," Draco stated as Hermione slipped off the wedding band and engagement ring.  She nodded and placed both rings in Draco's upturned palm.  "Now, get out."

Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to retort.  But she never got the chance, for at that very second, the voice of Blaise Zabini could be heard from the foyer.

"I'M SURE THE MALFOYS WON'T MIND IF YOU STAY FOR A FEW MORE WEEKS," Blaise's voice boomed.

With that, both Hermione's and Draco's eyes widened in shock.  What has Blaise just done?

"Monsieur Zabini," Monsieur Deville softly reprimanded, "there is no need for yelling."  They entered the living room just as Draco quickly slipped the engagement ring and wedding band back on her ring finger.

"Monsieur Deville," Hermione started nervously.  She shot a nervous glance to Draco, who looked as calm as ever, and then to Blaise, who was fidgeting and trying desperately to use his eyes to apologize to both she and Draco.

"I am very sorry to impose," Monsieur Deville began, "but would you mind terribly if I extended my stay until after Christmas?"

"After Christmas?" repeated Hermione.

"Oui," he answered, "if that is ok with you."

Draco smiled at Monsieur Deville.  "Of course we don't mind.  Our doors are always open," He lied straight through his teeth.  Of course they would mind.  Both him and Hermione could barely keep up the charade for two days, how in the name of Merlin were they going to last for two weeks? 

Monsieur Deville smiled back at him while Blaise let out a small sigh of relief from behind him.

Hermione's heart was beating very quickly now.  After Christmas?  Christmas wasn't for another two weeks or so, so did that mean that she would have to continue pretending to be Draco's wife for another two weeks?  No bloody way.

"Excuse me," she politely interrupted, "but may I have a word with my _husband_ in the kitchen?"

Blaise and Monsieur Deville inclined their heads.  She grabbed hold of Draco's arm and practically dragged him out of the living room and into the kitchen.

As soon as the door firmly closed behind them, she whirled around and glared at him.

"Two weeks?" she yelled incredulously.

"Keep your voice down Granger"

"Two bloody weeks Malfoy?" she stated again, this time much quieter than the first time.  "It was supposed to be over today; not tomorrow, not next week, and definitely not in two weeks."  She paced back and forth in front of him, mindful of the two maids who were preparing tea for them.

"What did you expect me to do Granger?" he asked, rolling his eyes.  "Tell him to pack it up and find a hotel because my _wife _can't seem to stand to be in my presence for more than a minute?"

"Well you could have tried," she responded, growing ever more aggravated with every word he spoke.

"And that would really do wonders for our deal."  He rolled his eyes.

She stopped pacing and stood in from of him, glare still intact and arms crossed over her chest.  "Don't get smart with me Malfoy."

"Never mind," Hermione quickly cut in before Draco could get a retort out, "bickering and yelling will get us nowhere.  We need to come up with a new plan."

"The only plan here Granger is to continue pretending to be married until Monsieur Deville leaves," Draco stated coldly.

They stood glaring at each other, silence hanging between the both of them.  Around them, the maids were preparing the tea and steadying it on a tray to bring out to Blaise and Monsieur Deville and later Hermione and Draco.  Faintly, they could hear the voices of both Blaise and Monsieur Deville as it steadily increased in volume.

Finally, Hermione broke the silence.  "Ten thousand galleons"

"What?" Draco retorted.  "You're bloody mad if you believe I'll pay you that much for living in my house for two weeks."  He scoffed and rolled his eyes once again.

"You can't expect me to be satisfied with the three thousand you offered, can you?" she snapped back.  "Especially now that you'll need me for two more weeks or so."

He snorted and laughed derisively at her.  "I don't need you Granger."

"Please," she mocked, "you need me and you know it."

He muttered under his breath and glared at a spot on the floor, his thoughts running freely through his head.  Ten thousand galleons is a lot of money, but that's pocket change to a Malfoy.  He did, in some way that he was trying desperately to deny, need her.  It would look incredibly odd if suddenly he had a new wife and daughter.  He really should have at least hired a Muggleborn witch that he could tolerate for more than five minutes.

Seeing as there really was no other option, Draco sighed and rolled his eyes…third time in thirty minutes.  "Fine, Granger.  Ten thousand.  Two weeks.  That's it.  I don't bloody care what Monsieur Deville says after."

Hermione smirked at him as she held out her hand, which he proceeded to shake after a moment's hesitation.

"Pleasure doing business with you Malfoy," she said as she walked passed him and towards the exit of the kitchen.

"Wait just a minute, Granger," he called to her.  "I listened to your terms, now it's your turn to listen to mine."

She turned around and crossed her arms over her chest.  "I'm listening."

"As much as I hate even being in your presence, I'm afraid we have to share a bedroom for these next two weeks, seeing that it is inescapable.  We'll be switching off who gets to sleep in the bed, I'll get it one night while you get it the other."

Hermione thought about this for a bit, but nodded her head nonetheless, telling him that she agreed and signaling him to continue.

"Next, loosen up a bit Granger.  After all, we are married," he smirked and winked at her as she shook her head and rolled her eyes.  "We have to start acting more like a married couple, well more precisely a married couple in love."

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at Draco incredulously.  He did not just tell her that they had to act like they were in love, did he?

"So you mean we have to…we have to…to…kiss," she stuttered, spitting out the last word as if it were foul tasting.

"Dear god no!" came Draco's quick response.  He said to be loving, not disgustingly sappy.  And there was no way in hell that he would kiss Hermione, other then the cheek but that would only be to keep up appearances.  "Not that extreme.  Just try not to cringe every time I kiss your hand or call you 'darling' and watch what you say in front of Monsieur Deville."

"Fine, fine," she waved a dismissive hand.  "As long as we don't have to kiss."

"And stop smirking every time you do or say something 'sweet'," he told her.  "It's not a bloody competition."

"Same goes for you Malfoy," she spat back.

He smirked at her then and inclined his head.  "Deal," he agreed smoothly.

"Deal," she replied right back.

They reentered the living, arm in arm, bright and fake smiles plastered on their faces.  The maids had already set up the tea and Blaise and Monsieur Deville were sitting on the couches, pouring cups of tea for themselves.  They looked up as soon as Draco and Hermione entered the room and smiled brightly at them.  Draco led her to one of the couches, directly across from where the other two men were sitting.  Hermione poured herself and Draco a cup of tea while he told the maids to inform the house elves to prepare Monsieur Deville's room.

They talked and drank tea for a bit longer until Blaise decided to call it a night.  Deciding to go to bed as well, Hermione, Draco, and Monsieur Deville followed Blaise up the stairs and into the study.  They each said their goodnights and retired to their respective rooms; Draco and Hermione to the master bedroom, Monsieur Deville to one of the guest rooms, and Blaise, back home to his wife.

Draco and Hermione dressed in silence, wishing desperately that when they woke up the next morning, Monsieur Deville would suddenly change his mind and decide to go back to Paris.  Hermione was starting to believe that ten thousand galleons were not worth having to pretend to be Draco Malfoy's wife.  But then again, when was she ever going to see that amount of money given to her all at once, and not over a period of months from numerous amounts of paychecks and hours at work?  And plus, she did give Draco and Blaise her word that she and Ana would do this.  Damn Gryffindor nobility.

Draco hated the situation as well.  It wasn't a picnic for him either and Hermione wasn't making it any easier on him or the situation.  Again, why couldn't they just hire some submissive witch who'd bow to their every world?  Damn that "Make Granger's Life a Living Hell" that made him hire her in the first place.  To hell if that actually mattered now; she was annoying him just as much as he was annoying her.

Hermione stepped out of the bathroom and into the room, wearing another one of Draco's shirts and old pajama bottoms.  She walked to the bed and pulled the covers off the mattress.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you're doing?" came Draco's voice from behind her.

"Sleeping," she replied simply.  "And I suggest you do the same thing."  She climbed in the bed and snuggled into the black silk sheets.

"I thought I told you Granger," he said as he walked towards her, "we switch off on who gets the bed.  And tonight, is my night."  Smirking, he yanked the black sheets off her.  "Now move.  I would like to sleep."

She glared at him as she sat up and forcefully pushed him out of the way, grumbling all the way to the couch.  She lay down on the couch, and promptly sat up.  Beating the pillow until it fit her specific needs, Hermione fell back onto it and pulled the blanket over her.  Unable to find a comfortable position, she rolled around on the couch, first facing Draco then facing the couch then facing Draco once more.

"Bloody hell just sleep already Granger," Draco said exasperatedly, his patience wearing thin with every sound or move she made.

"Easy for you to say," she grumbled out.  After a few more minutes of more turning and beating of her pillow, Hermione finally found a half way descent position and settled in to sleep.  She could faintly hear Draco's bed sheets rustle as he turned to grab his wand.  Muttering a spell under his breath, the lights in the room turned off, encompassing the two tenants in darkness. 


	7. The Times They Are A Changin’

A/n: WOW! Thank you so very much for all the reviews.  I am so excited and glad that you like my story…it inspires me to write more.  I know I should do individual thank you's and I feel terrible that I don't, I'm just a lazy procrastinator.  But, to all you who have reviewed and to all who haven't as well, THANK YOU SO MUCH. 

On another note, the identity of Ana's father will be revealed in the next chapter, hopefully.  I haven't started writing it yet but of what I have planned, his identity will be known in Chapter 8.  It isn't that big, well to me anyway.  I just picked someone who would match Ana's physical description.  Actually I had someone entirely different in mind, but when I started to describe Ana, his characteristics didn't match the "blonde hair, blue eyes" that I needed for this story to work.  But enough of the father, you won't learn his identity until next chapter any way.  On to Chapter 7…

Chapter 7 The Times They Are A-Changin' 

"Are you ignoring me?"

Draco just glared at Blaise as he brushed by him.  Rolling his eyes, Blaise turned around and followed Draco.  They were walking through the main building of Malfoy Industries, just doing their routine check ups of the offices and the different departments.  Monsieur Deville was off sightseeing muggle England, heaven only knows why, so they had the day all to themselves.  Ana was at school and Hermione was sitting in Draco's office, reviewing Malfoy Industries' papers.  She had been asked to floo to Malfoy Industries for an impromptu meeting and, while waiting for Draco and Blaise, decided to get in some work for the company.  She, like Draco, was furious with Blaise.

"You can't possibly ignore me forever, Malfoy," said Blaise as he ran to catch up with Draco.  Draco just sent him a withering glare.

"Look, I'm sorry," Blaise stressed as they headed back to Draco's office.  He stopped to catch his breath, but Draco kept walking forward until he was at the door to his office.  "Malfoy" Blaise called as he ran after him, the door to the office closing behind Draco's back and in Blaise's face.

"Draco," Blaise repeated as he tentatively opened the doors.  Hermione was sitting in Draco's chair, hunched over and scribbling furiously on the company's papers, while Draco stood behind her, arms crossed and reviewing Hermione's work very carefully.  They both looked up as they heard the door open and Draco's name being called, and just glared at the intruder.  Blaise shot them a lop-sided smile as he slipped into the room.

"That won't work," Draco said shaking his head and pointing at the paper as Blaise walked forward to him and Hermione.

"How do you know if you haven't tried?" she questioned indignantly, scribbling away at the paper in front of her and only looking up once to glare at Blaise as he came closer to Draco and herself.

"Because I _have_ tried it, Granger," Draco responded, clearly annoyed and offended that she would think that he wasn't capable of developing the same plan as she.

"Draco," Blaise said, causing Draco to glare at the dark haired man in front of him.  "Hermione," he continued slowly, causing her to mimic Draco's actions.

After about a minute of silence filled with an incredibly thick tension, Hermione went back to her papers and Draco followed, watching Hermione scribble figures and little notes.  Blaise sighed loudly, a bit over dramatic one might have thought, and slipped out of his chair and onto his knees on the floor.  He crawled to the front of the desk and waited until Hermione and Draco looked down at him.

"How many times do I have to apologize?" he began, looking hopelessly pathetic and regretful as well.  "I'm on my knees, begging you.  Believe me when I saw I am sorry."

Draco looked at Blaise with a raised eyebrow.  Blaise Zabini, on his knees, begging to Hermione and himself.  "Get off the floor Zabini," Draco finally said.  "It's very unbecoming to beg."

With a smile that could have possibly illuminated a pitch-black night, Blaise jumped up from the ground and stood in front Draco and Hermione.

"Sit, Zabini," Draco said, motioning to the chair behind Blaise.  "And Granger," Hermione turned around to look at him, "get out of my chair."  She glared, rolled her eyes, and pushed away from the desk, purposefully running over Draco's toes with the wheeled legs of his chair.

"Bloody hell Granger," Draco hissed, grabbing hold of his foot with one hand and the desk with his other to keep balance.  She smirked at him and walked around the desk to the seat next to Blaise's.  He was trying his hardest to suppress his smile.

Draco sat down in his chair and glared at Hermione before he began to talk.  "Now, on to business.  First thing, why in the name of Merlin does Monsieur Deville want to stay here, with us, for Christmas?  Doesn't he have a family of his own?"

Draco looked pointedly at Blaise and Hermione turned to look at Blaise as well.  He looked from Draco to Hermione and held up both his hands.  "Don't look at me," he began, "I'm just as clueless as you."

"Right, so you just told him it was alright for him to stay in Malfoy Manor for another two weeks without any questions of why he would possibly want to?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Look I already said I was sorry," he said exasperatedly, sending Hermione a look of warning.  "And I begged, what more do you want from me?"

"It doesn't matter now anyway," Draco quickly cut in.  "What's done is done.  We have to focus on the task at hand, and that's fooling Monsieur Deville for two weeks in to believing that we're actually married."

"That can't be that hard," said Blaise, making both Draco and Hermione turn to him with incredulous looks.  "I mean, you've already fooled him for two days, how much different can two weeks be?"

Hermione snorted from beside Blaise, turning both men's attention to her.  "You can't possibly be serious, can you?" she asked disbelievingly with a shake of her head.  "Have you ever tried living with someone as egotistical, self-centered, cold-hearted, -"

"You're not all that great either, Granger," Draco replied with narrowed eyes, "so stop talking."

"At least _I'm_ easier to live with," she replied defiantly.

"And how many people have you lived with?" he asked rhetorically.  "One, two?"

"_Don't_ start with me Malfoy," she warned him.  Aggravating Hermione Granger was already bad enough, but aggravating Hermione in the morning was a different subject entirely.

"If my memory serves me correctly, _you're_ the one who started this Granger."

"I see," Blaise's voice suddenly rang through the room, interrupting any other rude comments or possible death threats that might have been said.  "This will prove harder than I initially thought."

Then it was silent.  Blaise stared at the wood of Draco's desk as he analyzed their current situation and tried desperately to come up with different ways that might make their marriage more believable yet at the same time not physically having to have Draco and Hermione together for more than a few hours for fear of possible Avedas.

"Can you two at least try to act civil?" Blaise finally asked, breaking the tense and awkward silence.  "This thing between you two is so childish.  We have all grown up, well I'd like to think we have, and left behind our petty schooldays enmity.  So just shake hands and get over it."

"If you're looking for a truce, then you'll be greatly disappointed," answered Draco.  "Because there won't be any."

"Draco," Blaise said with a hint of warning and desperation.  "For the company Draco, for the company."

Draco looked pensive for a moment, and then "Two weeks," he said.  "I call a temporary truce, for now; that means no hexing or anything of the sort.  Take it, or leave it."  Draco finished with a pointed look at Hermione, arm outstretched, a small challenge slowly forming between them.  Challenge: who would be the first to break this truce?

"I'll take it," Hermione responded, firmly grabbing hold of Draco's hand.

"Truce?" Blaise finally asked.

"Truce," responded both Hermione and Draco.  Truce, for now at least.

*~*

Ana Granger sat at the front of her class, working diligently on the assignment given to the class by the teacher, Mrs. Rider.  It was art time, and she had told the class to draw a picture of their family.  Now Ana, like her mother, first scoffed at the idea of wasting a perfectly good half hour to draw instead of learn, but as she settled down with her paper and crayons, she immersed herself in her drawing.  It was a picture of Crookshanks, her, her mum, and her dad, well of what her mum had told her of her dad at least.  She knew that she had gotten her dad's blue eyes, with gold flecks courtesy of her mother, and her dad's sandy blonde hair.  She drew herself first and then moved on to her mum and Crookshanks.  And as she was halfway through the picture of her dad, her partner, Jason, interrupted her progress.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing his chubby little finger at the picture of her father.

Ana smiled brightly at him.  "That's my dad," she stated proudly.

Jason's face scrunched up into one of confusion.  "But, you don't have a dad," he said, looking at Ana and back down to the picture.

Although the color matching that of her father's, the fire that sparked in little Ana Granger's eyes were definitely that of her mother's.  Her eyes blazed as she stared at Jason's innocent face.  "I do have a dad," she said in a matter of fact tone.  Then she added, in a smaller and quieter voice, "Everyone has a dad."

"Well that's not what my mum said," Jason told her, wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand.  "My mum said that you don't got a dad.  And my mum is always right."

She fiercely glared at him with all the anger, sadness, and fury a five year old could possibly muster.  She was livid.  Of course she had a dad.  She may not know where exactly he was, but she had one.  _Her_ mum had told her that she did, and _her_ mum was never wrong.  Never.

Jason quickly turned away and back to his drawing when he saw the fierce glare that Ana was sending his way.  They worked in silence for the rest of the time, and for the remainder of the day as well; Ana still furious about Jason's comment and Jason terrified of what Ana could possibly do to him.

*~*

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, Monsieur Deville?" Draco asked him.  They, along with Blaise Zabini as usual, were sitting in the main office at Malfoy Industries, ordering the lunch that would be brought up to them.  They were already two days into the dreaded two more weeks and, surprisingly, Draco and Hermione were getting along fairly well.  Well if by fairly well that meant not snapping at each other every chance they got and acting a little bit more like a couple in love.  Little being the main word; an arm around her shoulder, a chaste, slightly reluctant, kiss on his cheek, a few more smiles sent her way-all done in front of Monsieur Deville to keep up the pretense of course.

He inclined his head, silently telling Draco to proceed.  "Why did you decide to stay with us, that is my family and I, for Christmas?" Draco questioned.

He smiled slightly at Draco before talking.  "I guess I do owe you an explanation, seeing as I am barging in on your family time" Draco opened his mouth as if to tell him otherwise, but Monsieur Deville just held up a silencing hand.  "Ever since my wife passed on and the children started families of their own, Christmas has been an awfully lonely time.  I thought it a nice change if I spent it with you and your family."

Silence hung in the office.  Neither Draco nor Blaise knew that his wife had died and felt terribly sorry for the man.  "Well," began Blaise with a bright smile, breaking the deafening silence, "we're glad that you decided to stay with us for the Christmas holidays."

Monsieur Deville smiled at him and Draco.  "It's nice to watch couples in love, reminiscent of my time spent with mon chérie."  A wistful, almost sad smile fell upon Monsieur Deville's face as the door to Draco's office opened and their food was brought in.  Draco and Blaise shared a somewhat guilty look, feeling bad for deceiving this man into believing a nonexistent love between two semi-enemies.

*~*

"What the hell happened here?"

Three days had passed, three days where Draco and Hermione managed not to kill each other.  They were far from comfortable with each other but they were able to put on a successful front whenever Monsieur Deville was around, making it seem like they were so comfortable together that they could walk around naked and not notice that they weren't wearing a single piece of clothing.  It was like there was a wall that prevented them from getting any closer.  And no matter how much Blaise and, unknowingly, Monsieur Deville pushed them together, that wall that kept them emotionally separated didn't seem to want to budge.

And now, Draco was in his study, taking in the aftermath of what looked like a violent hurricane.  His chair had fallen to the ground, his papers were scattered around not only at his desk but around the floor as well, the floo powder had been knocked out of its container and now lay spilt on the carpet floor; all in all, it was a complete mess.  Draco looked frantically around the room, running down a mental checklist to make sure that nothing had been stolen.  After checking to see that everything was there, Draco took three large calming breaths and sat on the couch, thoughts of what could have happened running through his mind.  That was when he heard the soft pitter-patter of feet coming from his right, just behind his desk.

Ana was terrified as she watched Draco from behind the desk.  What started out as a little game of scavenger hunt turned out to be something destructive and very, very bad.  She was terrified of what Draco, or worse, her mum, might do to her.  Her heart was pounding against her chest, beating furiously.  Her breathing labored, she watched with terror filled eyes as Draco looked around the room with a look one would have called his "search and destroy" look.  As Draco sat on the couch and held his head in his hands, Ana quietly made her way from behind the desk.  But not quietly enough.

Eyes ablaze, he whirled around to face the intruder.  Only that it wasn't an intruder but little Ana Granger instead, looking terribly guilty.  Draco's eyes softened a bit, but hardened as he realized that she was the reason that his study looked the way it did.  Still glaring at Ana, Draco called out to Hermione through the open door, thankful that Blaise had graciously offered to take Monsieur Deville out for dinner with his wife.

"Granger!" Draco's voice resonated through the empty hallways of Malfoy Manor.  Silence followed.  "Granger!" Draco's voice was louder this time, and more urgent.  Her steps could be heard, slowly walking up the stairs, taking her precious time to get to an impatient Draco.  "Granger get your arse in here this instant!" he roared, finally loosing any form of patience he had left.

"What do you wa…" her voice trailed off as she stepped into the study, taking in the upturned chair and scattered papers.  She looked to Draco, whose focus was not on her but on her daughter.  From what she could see of Draco, he looked livid and ready to kill.  Her daughter looked frightened and ashamed, red tinting her cheeks and the first sign of tears evident in her eyes.

"What happened?" Hermione said, turning Draco's attention to her and away from her daughter.  He fiercely glared at her, his usual light gray eyes now the color of the sky in the middle of a vicious storm.  His glare was filled with an anger and contempt that she hadn't seen since her Hogwarts days.

"Why don't you ask your _lovely_ child" he spat coldly, sarcasm clearly evident in his voice.  And that's what did it for little Ana.  She broke into sobs and ran straight to her mother.  Hermione kneeled down to take her into her arms and gently rock her.  Hermione glared at Draco as she softly questioned her daughter.

"Ana, love," she cooed, "what happened darling?"  Ana answered in the form of muffled sobs and hitched breathing.  "Sweetie what happened?" Hermione asked again, gently removing Ana's hands from around her shoulders and slowly prying Ana away from her.  She looked at Ana, whose nose and cheeks were tinted red and whose nose was slightly runny, and tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear.

"I-" began Ana, "I'm sorry mum."  She buried her face once again in Hermione's shirt and began to cry.  Hermione ran her hand along the back of her daughter's head, trying to calm her down.  She looked up to Draco, whose expression hadn't changed the least.  Glare still in tact, he was watching the little exchange between mother and daughter.

"Ana sweetie you have to tell me what's wrong," Hermione tried again, pulling back to look at her daughter's face.

"I did it mummy," she finally admitted in a soft whisper.  "I ruined Mr. Malfoy's room.  I'm sorry."

She hugged her daughter and looked back up at Draco.  "You know you shouldn't have been in here darling," she softly reprimanded.  "It's not yours.  I told you not to touch things that aren't yours."

"I'm sorry mum," she whispered.

"It's not me who you should be apologizing to Ana," she said.  "You owe Mr. Malfoy and apology."  She nodded her head against her mother's chest and reluctantly stepped away from Hermione.  She turned around, head still downcast and walked over to Draco.

"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy," she said.  "Please forgive me."  Hermione looked pointedly at Draco, daring him to refuse her apology and test the wrath of one Hermione Granger.  He ran his hands through his hair and sighed loudly.

After a bit, he responded.  "It's ok," he said in a tight voice, obviously a bit reluctant to forgive the little girl.  This was one of the reasons Draco Malfoy could never be a father.  On top of being the most impatient man alive, he could forgive, but never forget.  He could hold a grudge longer than any other person, muggle or magic.  Kids were susceptible to little accidents, and Draco would never be able to forget what his child had done.  He would make a terrible father, but the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree, now does it?  As the saying goes, like father, like son.

Hermione glared at Draco as he reluctantly accepted her daughter's apology.  She knew Draco was a heartless bastard, but she didn't know the extent of his heartlessness, or his bastardness if that was a word, until now.  How could he possibly just sit there with no emotion and _reluctantly_ accept a crying child's apology?  Only a Malfoy.

He stood up and began to pick up the fallen paper, depositing it on his desk.  Seeing it as a way for Draco to forgive her, Ana helped him with the papers as well.  Her hands were shaking so much that when she went to drop the papers on the table, she accidentally knocked the glass of water onto the papers.

Draco rapidly turned around as he heard Ana's gasp.  His eyes were on fire once again.  "What did you do now?" his voice boomed, causing Ana's eyes to well up with another round of tears.  "Stupid child, can't you do anything right?"  Tears spilled from Ana's eyes as she ran to her mum, who looked just as livid, if not more so, as Draco.

"Draco Malfoy, you have no right!" she yelled, taking her sobbing daughter into her arms.

"_I_ have no right?" he countered, walking up to her.  "Your daughter here is the one who came into my private study and decided to do as she wished to it."  
"She apologized Malfoy," she spat, gently rubbing Ana's back.  "You don't have to yell at her."

"Maybe if she did something right for once, I wouldn't have to yell," he said, eyes narrowed into slits.

Hermione slowly brought Ana to the floor, on her own two feet, and kissed her softly on her forehead.  She slowly stood back up, eyes never leaving Draco.  Once entirely upright, she brought her right hand up, and slapped Draco hard.  The sound resonated through the walls of the study and traveled out into the empty hallways.  A handprint was visible on Draco's cheek.  He was facing away from her, breathing heavily.

"How dare you Malfoy," she said, her voice displaying the anger she was trying to suppress in front of her daughter.  "How dare you," she repeated, shaking her head and glaring daggers at him.

Draco turned his head to face her, his glare still in place.  She had just slapped him, and hard too.  She hadn't slapped him since third year, and even then it hadn't been as hard and filled with as much emotion.  He felt a bit sorry for what he did, but just a bit.  He felt that he was right.  If Ana had done something right for once, then maybe they wouldn't have been in this situation.

Briskly, she took hold of Ana's hand and walked pass him to the fireplace.  Picking up whatever floo powder was left, she stepped into the fireplace with her daughter and yelled "Hermione Granger," still glaring dangerously at Draco.  And just like that, she was gone.

He fell back on the couch and let his head rest on the back of it.  He clutched his cheek, gingerly rubbing it, hoping that that would lessen its pain.

"Amanda!" he yelled.  "Amanda!" he repeated impatiently.  Soon enough, one of Draco's two maids appeared at the door to his office, panting from having to run from the kitchens to his office.

"Yes sir," she said as soon as she caught her breath.

"Fix this mess," he ordered.  "Don't throw any of the papers away, and dry those on the table right there."  He pointed to the stack of soggy papers.

She inclined her head and went to work as Draco sat there for a few minutes more, before standing up and heading out to the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

It was late, that was his first thought as he stepped outside.  The sun had already gone down and the stars were now just beginning to twinkle.  He let the cold air whip his face and hair as he stood there, hands in his pockets and eyes closed, thinking of the events that had just transpired.  In a flash he realized that in that moment, he was the living embodiment of his father, something he promised he would never be.

He sprinted from the garden up to his office, where Amanda and a few house elves were still trying to put everything back in order.  He grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped inside the fireplace, and yelled "Hermione Granger."

Hermione had just finished calming down her daughter and had tucked her into bed when she heard the all too familiar sound of someone traveling by way of floo.  She didn't need a second guess as to the identity of her late night visitor.

Silence filled the room.  Draco was starring at Hermione and Hermione was straightening out the couch.  Hermione's jaw was set tightly, indicating that she knew he was in the room but didn't welcome him there.  Neither wanted to be the first to speak, but someone had to do it.  

"Granger," Draco spoke first.  She went on tidying up her flat, undeterred by Draco's presence.  "Granger," he said again, this time taking a step out the fireplace and into the living room.

Hermione quickly glanced from his muddy boot to the cream colored carpet.  Desperately wanting to yell at him to take off his shoes before stepping foot into her house, Hermione abruptly turned away, so as not to be tempted to push him down to the floor before he soiled her immaculate carpet.  Her stubborn side kept her from actually talking to him.

He saw her gaze flicker to his muddied boots and the cream-colored carpet and back to cleaning the living room.  He smirked, just like Granger to be overly anal about the cleanliness of her house.  And just like Granger to not talk to him, especially when she was extremely buggered by him.

"Granger," he attempted one last time to grab her attention.  She wasn't listening.  "Granger if you don't listen to me now I will dirty your beautiful carpet."  He took another step further into the living room, leaving a muddied boot print from where he stood before.  He smirked again as he Hermione cringed and looked away, unable to bear the sight of her beautiful carpet ruined.  She bit her lip, but still did not speak.

He took a few more steps into the living room, closer to her and leaving behind more boot prints.  Hermione was now facing away from him completely, unable to take it any further.  Her stubborn side told her to just ignore him till he tired of his game and went back to Malfoy Manor, but her more reasonable side told her to tell him to take off his shoes and proceed to clean the carpet the muggle way, with no magic.  Her stubbornness ruled out.

"Granger, I'm climbing onto your precious couch right this instant and am about to do a wonderful dance with my muddied shoes," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.  Hermione whipped around and finally acknowledged Draco with a glare.  His right foot was half way up to the couch, ready to step on it just like he said, and his face was set in a smirk as he held eye contact with her.

"Dirty bastard," Hermione spat out as Draco dropped his leg back to the floor.

"It worked didn't it?" he asked, still smirking at her.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she said exasperatedly as she pushed past him to grab her wand and spell the carpets clean.  The mood in the room turned from one of lightheartedness to a tense and uncomfortable one.

"Well…" he began, unable to say the words that had been going through his head from the time he realized he was acting like his father at that moment.

"Yes?" she said, clearly annoyed at him from both his treatment of her daughter and the fact that he had gotten mud all over her floor and hadn't even bothered to help her clean it.

"I just came to-" he stopped here, unable to proceed.  "To-" and again he stopped.  He cleared his throat as Hermione raised one eyebrow.  "Toapologize," he said in a rush, making sure that she hadn't heard.

"Excuse me?" she said, taking a step closer to him in order to hear him better.

"You heard me Granger, don't make me repeat it," he told her, glaring as she raised a questioning eyebrow to him.

"No I don't believe I did," she was obviously playing with him.  In reality, she did hear him, but she wanted to make him suffer, after all, he did deserve it.  "Can you say it again?  Slower and a little louder this time."

He sighed exasperatedly and rubbed his face with his hands.  "You're testing me," he replied, running his hands through his tousled white-blonde hair.  She smirked at him this time.  "Fine, fine.  I came here to apologize."

She smirked triumphantly at him.  "Thought so," she responded.  "Well, go on.  Apologize."  She crossed her arms and stood in front of him.

"I thought I just did!"

She shook her head and tsked at him.  "Au contraire Malfoy.  Telling someone you're going to apologize is not the same as apologizing."  She smirked as he rolled his eyes.  The infamous Malfoy Temper was slowly rearing its ugly head, and any more of this ridiculous game and Draco Malfoy was going to trample _her_ with his muddied boots.

He mumbled something under his breath.  "What?" she said, this time not bothering to feign ignorance for she really didn't hear what he said.

"I said I'm sorry Granger," he said in a low voice.  "There.  Happy now?"

"Quite," she responded curtly, feeling a bit peeved that he hadn't fully wanted to apologize.  Ah well, a semi apology from a Malfoy, any Malfoy, was better than nothing.  "But it's not me who you owe the apology to."  Hermione pointed to the entrance to the one bedroom, where Ana was supposed to be sleeping.  "You are a heartless bastard Malfoy, and I know your precious ego is taking a nasty beating right now just by apologizing.  But the least you could do is say sorry to an innocent five year old child."

"Innocent?" he asked incredulously, his voice already rising in volume.  "She-"

Hermione held up a hand.  "Let's not get into that again, shall we?  I already gave her proper punishment.  I admit, it was wrong of her to go into your office and do what she did to it.  But, it was wrong of you for treating her the way you did.  She's just a child Malfoy.  You didn't have to yell at her.  And the water was a complete accident; you can't fault her for doing something she had no control over."

Draco listened to her short tirade quietly.  Not for the first time since this whole debacle started, he admired Hermione for her parenting skills, especially at such a young age.  She understood everything that he didn't.  And in that moment, standing in front of Hermione Granger in the living room of her flat, Draco Malfoy had come to respect his once enemy.  Anyone that could possibly tolerate and understand children the way Hermione did deserved just about anyone's respect.  It wasn't the easiest things to do.

He nodded his head as Hermione finished, looking at him expectantly and waiting for him to turn and walk into the room.  Which he did after a moment's hesitation.  The first thought that came to his mind when he entered the room was that there were two beds instead of one.  He had thought that it was just Ana's room, but with closer inspection he noticed that Hermione slept in there as well.  The second thing he noticed was that Ana wasn't asleep, instead she was staring at him wide eyed, a pink tint slowly spreading across her face from fear and embarrassment of being caught awake.

He smiled hesitantly at her and took a step forward.  She made no move, just continued to stare.  He never knew how to deal with children.  Having his childhood taken away from him at a very young age, he never understood the careless accidents that arose, like Ana and the now watered papers.  He could never connect with children and would have preferred to stay away from them entirely if not for the deal that he just had to secure.

He cleared his throat and took another step forward.  He found a seat on Hermione's bed and just stared at Ana as she looked back at him.

"I'm-" he cleared his throat again and turned his head away from Ana.  After a few moments, "I'm sorry," he said turning back to her.  "It was wrong of me to say what I did and to yell at you like that."

Her face broke into a grin and before he knew it, she had climbed out of bed and hugged him fiercely.  "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy," she whispered in his ear.  "Please forgive me."

He felt the regret and honest apology in her words.  It made his heart ache to know that he had caused her such misery just hours before.  Like Hermione had said, she is just a child.  Suddenly thoughts of parenthood seemed a bit brighter to him.

"It's ok love," he said, smiling against her head of blonde curls and holding her against him.

Hermione watched from the doorway with a wistful and a bit soggy smile.  Before she knew it, a lonely tear slid down her cheek.  Quickly, she wiped it away, chastising herself for acting like a blubbering idiot at that moment.  But who wouldn't?  It truly was a beautiful thing to watch a cold-hearted bastard like Draco Malfoy hugging and acting so kindly and lovingly to a small child.  Hell, maybe if Voldemort had done that, then he wouldn't have had as many enemies as he did.

Ana slowly let her arms drop from around Draco's neck and stepped away from him.  Standing up, he grinned as he held out a hand for her.  Taking it, Ana and Draco turned around to see Hermione waiting expectantly at the door with a smile on her face.  They walked out of the room and into the living room.

"Now can we please get back to Malfoy Manor," Draco said with a hint of impatience to his voice.  "I fear Monsieur Deville will return with none of us there to greet him."

Nodding her head, Hermione walked to the fireplace, followed closely by Draco and Ana.  She stepped into the fireplace, then Ana and then Draco, who grabbed a handful of the green floo powder.

"Malfoy Manor," he said, and with a poof they were gone from Hermione's flat and reappeared in the now very clean study of Malfoy Manor.

"I'll take her to bed," Hermione said as she walked to the doorway.  Draco nodded, but not before he gave Ana a kiss on the forehead and told her goodnight.

When Hermione returned, Draco was standing by his desk, inspecting the stack of papers that sat waiting for him to go through.  The once soggy papers were now dry and easily readable.

"How are they?" she asked quietly, nodding her head to the stack of papers.

"Good," he replied turning around to face her.  "I am-you know," he said offhandedly.

"Sorry?" she offered, smiling softly.

"Yeah, that," he responded.

"I know."

A silence hung between them, a comfortable silence; the first comfortable anything that they shared.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione told him.  He nodded as she turned around and walked out of the door.  Halfway down the hall she heard his voice calling out to her.

"Granger?" came his voice.

"Yeah?" she responded.

"I get the bed tonight."

"I know Malfoy, I know," she said, shaking her head and heading to their currently shared bedroom.

A few moments later, Draco joined her in the bedroom and began his nightly bedtime routine.  And as they settled down to sleep, she on the couch and he on the enormous bed, they noticed that something changed.  Nothing would ever be the same between them again.  The wall that they had built to keep each other out was slowly, but surely, beginning to crack.


	8. Secrets Revealed

A/n: Wow I am incredibly sorry that this took longer than expected.  I promise that the next one won't take this long; I just had an extremely big paper due for school that took up most of my time.  I hope this chapter is worth the one-month wait.

And again, THANK YOU.  Wow, I am blown away by all the positive feedback I'm getting for this story.  I am truly grateful that you all like it.  THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!

Chapter 8 Secrets Revealed 

"Ice skating?" Draco asked skeptically.  "You want to go ice skating?"  _Of all activities…_

"I think it's a great idea," Hermione added from beside him.  Draco turned to her and glared, obviously someone didn't know how to ice skate.

"But it's so…" Hermione raised an eyebrow, urging Draco to continue his train of thought, "…muggle."

"Do you have a problem with things muggle, Draco?" she asked him, voice laced with a challenge for him to answer in the affirmative.

"No, darling," ground out Draco.  "But don't you think it's a better idea if we just stayed at home?"

"But I want to go ice skating," came Ana's voice from beside Hermione.  "Please, daddy, can we go ice skating?"

Draco looked into her pleading eyes then to Monsieur Deville and Blaise.  Monsieur Deville had a warm smile on his face, obviously thinking that the exchange between Draco and Hermione was just playful banter.  Good.

"Oui Monsieur Malfoy," chimed in Monsieur Deville, "that sound like a very good idea."

Draco sighed.  He was outnumbered three to one and Blaise didn't look as if he was about to help him.  What a great friend he is.

"Fine," he replied dejectedly.  "We'll leave in thirty minutes to go…ice skating."  He wrinkled his noise in disgust before the group gathered in the living room dispersed to change into more appropriate clothing.  He really did not like ice-skating, not just because it was a muggle activity but also because he had a very bad experience his first, and last, time he tried.  It involved slipping, laughter, and overall completely embarrassing himself, three things he did NOT enjoy.

Thirty minutes later, the group reconvened in Draco's study, in much more layers than they had first left in.

"Once again Zabini," began Draco as Blaise flooed into the room and walked out of the fireplace, "you have a lovely wife, why aren't you at home, on a Friday night, spending time with her?"

"My lovely wife is in Milan for the weekend," he replied, seating himself on the couch.  "Something about a fashion spread for Witch Weekly."

"Mum, I can't walk," Ana's voice carried into the study as Hermione and Ana walked in.  Well Hermione walked, Ana for lack of a better word waddled.

Hermione smiled softly as she crouched down on her knees in front of her daughter.  She took out her wand, which was placed securely in the inside pocket of her jacket, and said a compacting spell to combine all of Ana's layers into one and a warming charm to ensure Ana was always warm.

Hermione wore much less layers than Ana, sporting only a thick turtleneck and a jacket with jeans, but placed a warming charm on herself as well.  She opted to let her thick, curly hair flow freely, providing warmth to her ears and neck.

"I suggest you all administer a warming charm on yourself," replied Hermione in her ever-present "mother" voice as she stood to face them, taking in their slacks and sweaters.  Monsieur Deville and Blaise wore scarves and gloves along with a thick sweater and heavy slacks while Draco just had a turtleneck and pants.

"Done," replied Draco as Monsieur Deville and Blaise took out their wands and did as Hermione suggested.  Obviously he remembered they were wizards and had wands, and could therefore keep warm without having to wear ridiculous amounts of clothing.

"We can floo to the Leaky Cauldron," said Hermione as both men placed their wands back into their pockets.  "There's a frozen pond nearby that muggles use for a skating rink.  It's walking distance so we won't have to take a cab."

Draco nodded as Blaise grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, said "Leaky Cauldron," and disappeared in a whirl of green flames.  Monsieur Deville followed soon after.

"Ice skating, Granger?" Draco asked incredulously, halting Hermione from grabbing the floo powder.  She turned around and smirked at him.

"Does someone not know how to ice skate?" she asked, insinuating his skill, or lack there of, in ice skating.

"I never said I couldn't," he grumbled as Hermione turned back around and took hold of her daughter's hand.  "Next time, I get to choose our activity," he called out as Hermione, tightly holding Ana's hand, mimicked Blaise's actions.  Draco appeared in the Leaky Cauldron shortly after.

They walked out of Diagon Alley and into muggle England.  Taking extra care that they watched what they said or did, they made their way to the skating rink.  The first snowfall of the season had begun a few days back, and now the sidewalk, street, and cars were covered with the white ice.  That, along with the numerous amounts of Christmas decorations that lined the city streets and shop windows, made everyone anxious for Christmas, which was only about a week away.

"Have you ever ice skated, Mr. Zabini?" Ana asked Blaise as Hermione put on the ice skates for her.

"No," replied Blaise as he tied up the skates.  He stood up slowly and quickly grabbed on to the nearest handrail.  "But I guess there's a time for everything."

Ana smiled as she hopped off of the bench and held her hand out for Hermione to hold.  Securely taking hold of her daughter's hand, Hermione and Ana stepped on to the frozen pond and skated off.  Blaise watched the ice skating duo as Draco and Monsieur Deville slowly stood from the bench and grabbed hold of the handrail as well.

"Bloody hell I swear that child and wife of mine are completely bonkers," Draco muttered as he clung to the handrail and took a small step forward.  This definitely was not what he envisioned to be a perfect Friday.  "Why do I let them drag me into these type of things?"

"Because you love them," offered Blaise with a smirk as he took a shaky step forward away from the handrail.

Draco forced a tight smile on his face.  He didn't love Granger, respected maybe, but not loved.  Heck he might possibly even like Ana, but that was as far as his feelings went.  But what he did love was the money he'd get once Monsieur Deville signed all the papers and they could all live like they once used to.

"You ready boys?" asked Monsieur Deville as he too cautiously took a step away from the handrail as well.  Blaise nodded and Draco just grunted as Hermione and Ana came to a stop in front of them.  Hermione motioned for them to step out onto the ice as Ana let go of Hermione's hand and took hold of both of Monsieur Deville's.

"Here goes nothing," Blaise said, taking a deep breath and cautiously putting one foot onto the ice, then the next.

"Oh honestly it's just ice," Hermione softly joked, smiling at the wobbly figure of Blaise concentrating on just trying to keep his balance.  Blaise stuck out his tongue in a very childlike fashion and took another tentative step forward.

Hermione turned back to Draco and raised an eyebrow.  "Your turn Malfoy," she said.

"No thank you, I'm fine," he replied, leaning casually on the makeshift wall of the pond, just outside the ice.  His head was held high and his arms were crossed in front of him, looking like he was too good to be associating with common muggles.

"Scared, Malfoy?" she asked with a taunting tone to her voice, one eyebrow raised.

He rolled his eyes and snorted, but still refused to move from his position against the wall and away from the ice.

"Malfoys _don't_ get scared," he responded.

"Really now?" she countered with a smirk.  She held out her hand to him.  "Then skate with me."

He rolled his eyes at her and remained stock still against the wall, totally disregarding her proffered hand.  He let out a large, overdramatic sigh and pushed away from the wall.

"I can do this on my own," he said with a glare as he slowly made his way onto the ice, one foot in front of the other.  He remained still as both his skates made contact with the ice.  He slowly glided along the outer area of the rink, along the wall.  Suddenly, a group of three children skated quickly past him, causing him to lose his balance.  With a quick lunge to the wall, Draco managed to remain upright.  He glared at Hermione's smiling figure in front of him.

"There.  I skated.  Happy?" he said coldly, making his back to the sitting area and away from the ice.  It took everything in Hermione to not outright laugh at him.  "Now bugger off."

"As you wish," she responded with a smile, amusement evident in both her voice and eyes.  She skated back to the middle of the frozen pond where Ana was holding both Blaise's and Monsieur Deville's hand and attempting to teach them to skate by dragging them slowly behind her.  Hermione smiled as she skated up to them.

"How are all you faring?" she said.  All three faces smiled at her.

"Better than Monsieur Malfoy, it seems," replied Monsieur Deville with a nod to where Draco was sitting, arms crossed over his chest and looking glum as ever.

"Yes well my husband was never one for skating," Hermione explained as she turned back to look at him.

"Ok, I think I got this skating thing down," Blaise said, slowly letting go of Ana's hand.

"Honestly, how do both you and Draco not know how to ice skate?" asked Hermione with a smile.  "We did attend Hogwarts for seven years which, might I add, has a very large pond that freezes every winter, perfect for skating."

Blaise just shrugged and smiled at Hermione.  Slowly, he glided across the ice.  Surprisingly, Blaise looked dignified and graceful and not at all how one should look when first skating.  He lacked that awkwardness usually carried by newbies.  _The gift of growing up rich_ Hermione thought with a smile.  Then Blaise slipped and fell on his hind side, breaking the gracefulness he held just moments before.

"Bravo Monsieur Zabini," Monsieur Deville said with a laugh as he held out his hand for Blaise.  Blaise just flashed him a toothy grin as he grabbed Monsieur Deville's hand and wiped the ice from his clothes.

"Perfection," Blaise said, arms wide and looking all to proud of himself.

"But you fell Mr. Zabini," Ana reminded him with a smile.

"Ah yes," he said, tapping a finger on her nose.  Ana scrunched up her nose and stuck her tongue out at Blaise.  "But I looked good doing it.  And that's all that matters."

Hermione just rolled his eyes at his nonsensical explanation but smiled nonetheless.

Draco watched the whole scene from afar, on his bench just outside the pond.  He was smirking at Blaise's expense, wondering why his friend would subject himself to such humiliation.  But, he hated admitting it to himself, it did look like fun.

The four on the pond skated around more, Ana and Hermione switching from helping Blaise to Monsieur Deville.  Laughter filled the winter air as both Monsieur Deville and Blaise slipped many times more, once even bringing down Hermione and Ana with them.  It was a perfect Friday, well perfect for all but one.

"Come on Mr. Malfoy, skate with me."

Draco looked up to see Ana in front of him, smile on her lips as she held out her hand to him.  He hadn't even noticed when she broke off from the group.

"No thank you love," he kindly refused.  Neither Ana's hand or smile wavered at his refusal.  If anything, she looked more persistent.

"Please Mr. Malfoy," she asked again.  "Please?"

Draco sighed as he finally took her hand, eliciting an even wider grin from Ana.  He stood from the bench and made his way back onto the ice.  Ana dragged him behind her, like she did Blaise and Monsieur Deville, as they stepped onto the ice.

"Slowly love," Draco reminded her, squeezing her hand softly to emphasize his point.  She smiled at him and nodded then, slowly, made her way to Hermione, Monsieur Deville, and Blaise.

"Well look who came to join us," said Blaise with a smirk as Draco and Ana neared them.

"Shut it Blaise," Draco responded halfheartedly, focusing more on not falling than keeping up with Blaise's friendly verbal sparring.  Draco, like Blaise, still carried that same gracefulness on the ice, but with more of a slight timid air that Blaise lacked.  Instead of just trying to have fun, Draco was focusing more on not making a complete fool of himself.

Seeing it as a perfect "family" time, Monsieur Deville grabbed Blaise's hand and started to slowly skate away from Draco, Ana, and Hermione.

"What-" began Blaise but was silence when Monsieur Deville winked and jerked his head to the small family.  Blaise smirked and winked back.  Together, they skated around the outside of the frozen pond.

"Where could they be going?" asked Hermione as she watched the two skating men tripping over each other and grabbing on to anything and everything to keep balance.

"Hell if I know," responded Draco, looking down at his feet as Ana slowly dragged him across the center of the pond.  Draco slipped on an especially slippery part of the pond and would have fallen straight on his backside, bringing Ana down with him, if it weren't for Hermione's, surprisingly, quick reflexes.

"That's why I don't skate," Draco grumbled while glaring at Hermione and righting himself up.  He dusted off invisible dust and ice particles from his clothes, a nervous habit of his.

"It's ok if you don't know how to Mr. Malfoy," said Ana, skating around Draco and Hermione, "a lot of people don't know how."

"I never said I couldn't," replied Draco indignantly, "I'm just not that good at it."  He glared at Hermione and Ana and looked down his nose at them.

"Oh come off your high horse Malfoy," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.  He just glared at her harder.  Sighing dramatically, Hermione took hold of his arm and began skating backwards, dragging him along with her.  Ana grabbed his other hand and mimicked her mother's movements.  "If you need help, just ask.  It's as simple as that."

"Malfoys don't-" he began but was immediately cut off by Hermione.

"Ask for help, yeah I get it," she finished for him.  "Is there anything at all that Malfoys do?"

"Loot, plunder, and pillage," he responded, a smirk rising on his lips as he stared at her.  She just rolled her eyes, a small smirk present on her lips, and continued slowly skating around the middle of the pond with Draco's one hand in hers and his other hand in Ana's.

They continued skating, with a few slip-ups from Draco.  Draco was not a united we stand, divided we fall type of person; he was more divided we stand, united we fall.  And therefore, when he fell, Ana and Hermione followed soon after.  But, nonetheless, they did have fun.  And they actually looked like a family.  Bonus points for Draco and Malfoy Industries.

"You get it now, Mr. Malfoy?" Ana asked with a smile from in front of him.  His lips quirked up into a small smile as he slowly shook his head.  "Good."  She flashed him a wide and toothy grin as she let go his hand and skated to where Monsieur Deville and Blaise were resting.

Draco and Hermione turned to look at each other, hands still clasped, and smirked.  He nodded once at her and slowly let go of her hand, noticing the sudden rush of cold air that surrounded his warm-thanks to Hermione-hand.  Slowly, he skated away from her with a lot more confidence than when he first stepped onto the ice.

"You're welcome Malfoy!" Hermione yelled out to him.  He turned around, winked, and continued on his journey back to the bench he was first sitting at.  "Prat," she commented, but a smile still graced her lips.  Following her daughter, she skated back to Blaise and Monsieur Deville.

Draco may have gotten the concept of skating down and now could skate better than before, but that did not mean that he would join the other four people on the ice.  As stated earlier, Draco Malfoy did not like ice-skating.  The great possibility of falling flat on your arse and being laughed at was just horrific and not very appealing to Draco.  So he preferred to just sit it out and watch.

After a few minutes, a brunette woman, around Draco's age, skated up to him and stopped right in front of him.  She was wearing jeans and a very thick white jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck and a cap on top of her head.  Unlike Hermione's unruly curls, her hair was soft and bone straight.  With the stunning smile she was flashing Draco, the young woman looked even prettier than normal.

"Hi," she greeted cheerily, beautiful smile still in place.  Draco nodded his head once at her, eyeing her a bit suspiciously for he was a slight bit wary of her intentions.  You never know with muggles

"My name's Jessica Cummings," she said, not at all offended that Draco hadn't even greeted her.  Once again, a nod from Draco.  She was eyeing Draco appreciatively, obviously enjoying the sight of the self proclaimed "Sex God of Hogwarts."

"Would you like to skate?" she asked, holding out her hand to Draco and still not fazed by his coldness.

Draco took a good look at her and decided that normally, she fit all the descriptions and qualities that he looked for in his usual shags: beautiful, shallow, and just a bit ditzy.  And normally, he would take her hand, then later take her back to the muggle flat he used when entertaining muggles.  But, something was different.  And as he saw Hermione skating just behind the beautiful brunette, he locked eyes with her and responded.

"No," he began, eyes boring holes into Hermione's as she came to a complete stop behind the young woman.  "I think I'll sit this one out, thank you."

"Oh," Jessica replied, obviously a little put out.  Without even a proper farewell, she turned and skated back onto the ice and away from him.

Draco nodded once at Hermione, eyes still locked as neither made a move closer to one another.  She smiled faintly at him before skating off towards Blaise, Monsieur Deville, and Ana.  Confusion was still clear on her face as she skated around the frozen pond.  She knew Draco well enough to know that he would not turn down that opportunity.  Then what made him decline her offer?

They skated on for about an hour more, well four skated while one just watched from the sidelines.  Ana spent most of her time still trying to teach Blaise to skate properly while Monsieur Deville was trying desperately to get Draco and Hermione to skate together.  Both Monsieur Deville and Ana's efforts were in vain for Blaise still could not skate a few seconds without falling and Draco was as hard as rock and refused to go near the ice or, unseen by Monsieur Deville, Hermione again.

"Goodnight Malfoy family," Blaise said, turning around to face Hermione, Draco, and Ana who was snuggled closely in Draco's arms.  It was late and they were all in the Leaky Cauldron preparing to floo back to their respective houses.  "Monsieur Deville," said Blaise, shaking the hand of the elder wizard.  He stepped into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder.  And just as he was about to floo back to his home, Draco's voice cut in.

"See you tomorrow then, Zabini?" Draco asked with a smirk.

He nodded once at him and responded.  "Of course."  And with a swirl of green smoke, Blaise was gone.  Monsieur Deville, Draco, Ana, and Hermione flooed back to Malfoy Manor.

After saying their proper goodbyes, Hermione led a very tired looking Ana to bed, followed by Draco.  Hermione carried Ana into bed as Draco waited patiently by the door.

"She wants you to tuck her in," Hermione said with a slight smile as she walked back up to Draco.

"Me?" he asked disbelievingly.  Hermione nodded and stepped to the side.  He shrugged and walked pass her and over to Ana's bed.  Hermione stayed in the room, but near the door where neither Draco nor Ana could see her.

Draco sat down on the bed and smiled at the little blonde haired girl.  He wrapped the comforter securely around her and bent over to give her a kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight," he said as he stood from the bed.

"Wait," responded Ana, reaching out a hand to touch him lightly on the arm.  "Did you-" she stopped and smiled sheepishly up at him.  "Did you know my daddy?"

A lump formed in Hermione's throat as she quietly slumped to the floor, still out of eyesight to her daughter.  At that moment, she felt terribly guilty for keeping the identity of her father a secret.  Her own mother wouldn't tell her and now she was hoping a man who she knew for a little more than a week could possibly give her the answer to the question she was desperately seeking the answer to.

Draco shot a glance to where he knew Hermione was and sat back on the bed, taking Ana's hand in his.  "No, love, I'm sorry.  I didn't know him."

"Do you know who he is?"

A shake of the head from Draco.

She pouted momentarily, but smiled a second later.  "It's ok," she began.  "Can you tell me about your dad?"

Draco's face immediately hardened.  His father was something that was never talked about.  After he was released from Azkaban in Draco's final year of Hogwarts, the Malfoy family name, along with Malfoy Industries, was in shams and the butt of every joke.  It was embarrassing really.  The Malfoys remained silent throughout the whole ordeal and never discussed it with anyone.  Never air your dirty laundry.

"My father was a very bad man," Draco finally managed to spit out, his eyes, hardened and the color of an impending storm, narrowed and focused on some point above Ana's head.  Hermione listened from where she sat, her fingernails digging into her palms.  She was nervous, of who or what she didn't know.

Ana lightly squeezed Draco's hand, causing him to focus his attention once more on the little girl.  She smiled sympathetically at him, making him feel rather secure instead of enraged, an emotion he felt every time someone tried to comfort him.

"It's ok Mr. Malfoy.  Would you-" she stopped and looked him in the eyes, "would you like to talk about it?"

Draco forced a strained smile on his face and sighed.  Somehow, to him, telling this little five year old of his childhood with his father would bring him a step closer to breaking free of the ties that, even in death, Lucius Malfoy still had over his son.  

"When I was a young boy, I looked up to my father.  I wanted to be just like him: talk like him, act like him, everything," he smiled slightly and shook his head, "I was a real prat, ask your mother."  Ana giggled slightly, but stayed mostly silent.

"But my father never paid me any mind.  He focused more on Malfoy Industries than he did my mother or me.  Malfoy Industries was his life.  But then…" Draco trailed off here and looked to where he knew Hermione was sitting.  Most likely, Hermione was smart enough not to tell her daughter much of Voldemort and the War.  And Draco wasn't about to go further into it by telling Ana that his father was one of Voldemort's most trusted followers.  "…My father took on something else that separated our family even more.  He got into trouble with the Ministry, soiling our family name, and that's when I stopped trying to be like him.  When I graduated from Hogwarts, second in class only to your mum, I began my work in restoring the Malfoy name.  I started with rebuilding Malfoy Industries, and that's where I've been since then.  I plan to be a better man than what Lucius Malfoy was or ever could have been," Draco looked down at their joined hands as he finished.  His cheeks were slightly pink, embarrassed that he actually confessed all that not only to Ana but Hermione as well.  A tight squeeze of his hand caused him to look up and into Ana's dark blue eyes.

"You're already better, Mr. Malfoy," she told him, "much better."  And with a soft kiss on his cheek, Ana let go of his hand and turned on her side, ready to fall asleep.  Draco smiled at her, warmed from the inside out by her words.  She was really a great child, why someone would just leave a child like her was a mystery to him.

"Goodnight Ana," he whispered, then stood from the bed and walked back to Hermione.  She was sitting on the floor when he approached, starring at her hands.  That small interaction between Draco and her daughter touched her in ways that nothing else has.  She was speechless and if she was being completely honest, just a bit teary as well.  Seeing-well actually hearing-Draco so vulnerable stirred something in her that she dared not try to distinguish right at that moment.  She was also extremely grateful that Draco hadn't gone into much detail of his family's connections with Voldemort.

"Ready?" asked Draco, causing her to look up at him.  She shot him a small smile, which he didn't reciprocate.  Instead, he nodded his head and walked past her.  Hermione got up off the floor as fast as she could and followed him out of Ana's room and into theirs.  They prepared for bed in silence, both not knowing exactly what to say to the other.  After settling down in the bed, for it was her night, Hermione grabbed her wand and with a soft "Nox," the lights in the bedroom dimmed then shut off completely.

 Draco awoke in the middle of the night, finding that it was especially hard that night to fall asleep.  He grabbed his silk robe and his wand, putting it in the pocket of his robe.  Silently, he made his way to the library, hoping to find peace and sleep amongst his books.  What he didn't expect to find though was one Hermione Granger, sipping hot chocolate and staring at the soft fire in the room.

"What are you doing up?" he questioned, taking a seat beside her.  She kept her gaze on the small fire as she answered.

"I couldn't sleep"

"Neither could I," he said, staring at the fire as well.

"Hot chocolate?" she offered him as she pointed to a kettle of the steaming liquid on the table.  With a curt nod, Hermione took hold of her wand, transfigured a book into a mug, and poured the cocoa into the transfigured book.

He raised an eyebrow as she handed the liquid to him.  "Lazy git," he commented halfheartedly.  She shrugged her shoulders as she took a sip out of her own mug.

"I have a wand, why not use it?"

"You could have accio'd a mug, you know," he explained.  Hermione just shrugged her shoulders again as he sipped the warm cocoa.

They were silent for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the fire.  Hermione quickly broke the silence in the room.

"Look, I'm sorry, for Ana's sake.  It was terribly rude of her to question you about your father," she said, turning her attention to Draco and away from the fire.

He smirked, but didn't turn to look at her.  "My father was a bastard, that's no secret."

"It's just-" began Hermione.

"Your just surprised that I thought the same," he interrupted.  With a small nod from Hermione, he continued.  "Like I said, my father was a very bad man.  I may have respected that man once, but all that died when he disgraced the Malfoy name by being thrown into Azkaban.  The only good thing that he has provided for me is the Malfoy Gringotts account which I inherited when that bastard got what was coming to him."  Draco's facial features hardened, jaw set into a very straight line and eyes the color of onyx.  The glow of the fire lighting his face made him look even more menacing. 

"I always thought you worshipped your father," responded Hermione after a moment's pause.  "But I guess I was wrong."

A gasp escaped Draco's lips.  He turned to her, his previous hard and cold face changed into a mocking, playful one.  "'Know-it-all' Granger, wrong?  Who would've thought," he said with a smirk, a disbelieving and sarcastic tone clearly evident.  "And she admitted it too.  What has the world come to?"  He was making fun of her again, just like when they were back in Hogwarts.   But it lacked that malice that would usually cause Hermione to either run off crying or smack him so hard that he would still feel it a month from now.

"Very funny Malfoy," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I know," all traces of that arrogance so infamous amongst Malfoys were obvious in his voice.

And for once, they sat in the library in a comfortable silence.  Somehow, another crack had formed in the proverbial wall that they both had built to keep their distance.  Old enmities were slowly dying and new revelations were brought to light.  And with it, a respect was slowly forming.

"We seem to be putting a damper on your love life, Ana and I" Hermione said, breaking the warm silence in the library.  With a small smirk and a shake of his head Hermione continued.  "Yes, don't think that I didn't see the numerous women asking to skate with you or sending you furtive glances."

"The curse of being devilishly sexy," he replied distractedly, slight smirk still in place.  Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the small fire.

"And you," he continued, "I _must_ be putting a damper on your love life as well."  His tone was sarcastic but at the same time light, lacking the maliciousness usually embedded through his words.  "Though I'm fairly certain that I'm a step up from the usual blokes you date."

"Cocksure Malfoy," she replied with a grin, "didn't your mother ever tell you what happens when you assume?"

"My mother wasn't the type to willingly talk to her child," he deadpanned.  He sounded as if he was just churning out an answer to one of Professor Snape's questions instead of revealing a Malfoy family secret.  He wasn't angry, annoyed, or even slightly hurt at the memory; he was just…indifferent.

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably, breaking the awkward tension that had crept into the room.  So maybe light humor wasn't the way to go with Draco.  "Right," she said, "and to answer your first question, you can't possibly ruin my love life anymore than it already has been."

His interest was piqued as he turned his full attention to her.  With a raise of his eyebrow, Hermione elaborated.  "I've dated, of course, how else would Ana have been born?"  She asked the question as a joke, to somewhat lighten the mood in the room.

"Funny Granger," Draco said sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes as she continued.  "But, it's been a while.  Gods I don't even remember the last time I've been on a date.  It's been that long."

"No surprise considering your natural repellant qualities," Draco joked as he smirked at Hermione.

Rolling her eyes again, she continued as if he had said nothing.  "The guys that I've dated are nice enough blokes; funny, smart, and kind as well.  But once they meet Ana, suddenly dinners with family and friends pop up and work starts piling up and I'm shoved to the back of their mind until eventually they forget all about me."  She shot him a wry smile; obviously this had been bugging her more than she let on.  "I guess single women with children aren't the "in" thing right now."

Draco was silent for a moment.  What exactly do you say to that?  He felt sorry for the unorthodox family, living life as a single mother was harder than he had originally made it out to be.

"Well, I don't see why," he finally said, "Ana's a great girl."  And he honestly meant it.  He had grown fond of the little monster.

Hermione smiled politely into her mug of hot chocolate.  "She is, isn't she?" she asked rhetorically.   "She's her father's daughter," she added as a second thought, a twinge of sadness creeping into her voice.

"With her mother's intelligence," he added to hopefully lighten the dampening mood in the library, and to change the subject before Hermione started doing something overly girly that he just wouldn't be able to deal with.  Like cry for one.

"Is that a complement, Malfoy?" she asked playfully, looking up and smirking at him.

"Give credit where credit's due," he said plainly, turning to her and winking before turning back to the small fire.

"She looks just like her father," Hermione continued after a minute or two of silence, "and her love for Quidditch?  Merlin knows that that does not come from me.  And she has his lively spirit as well."

"So the question is, who is the father, Granger?" he asked lightheartedly, not really expecting to get an answer.  "Is it one of our dear Minister's many children?  Or maybe our favorite Bulgarian, Viktor Krum?"

Hermione snorted at his suggestions.  "Tell me, if Ana were a Weasley, don't you think she'd have red hair?" she responded with a raised eyebrow.  "And as much as I respect the man, Krum could not possibly produce a child as beautiful as Ana."

Draco sniggered at the truth behind her words.  True, Ana had blonde hair and not red, and Krum fell just short of being called hideous.  To put it simply, he was not Draco.

"So who is it Granger?" he goaded further, seeing as she neither got angry or offended when he first asked of the identity.

And true to his assumptions, Hermione wasn't angry or offended that he had asked.  In fact, she was quite relieved.  She had to move on, but how could she if she hadn't even spoken or written his name in close to three years?

She smiled a sad wistful smile before answering.

"Oliver Wood"

A/n: Ok I changed the father, for all you who read this chapter the first night I posted it: Oliver Wood is the father now, not the other person.  Yeah the other person was just a little too random, Oliver Wood fit better.  And if he doesn't match the physical descriptions I need…oh well, he does now.  And I need suggestions for Quidditch team names because I'm not creative and I can't think of any really good ones.  Oh yeah and Hermione was never married; she dated Oliver then they had Ana.


	9. These Are My Confessions

A/n: Ok to clear this father business up a bit…Oliver Wood is the father. At first, I had Seamus Finnigan as the father because from what I know he fits Ana's descriptions better than Oliver does, but Seamus is just a little too random. So I'm sorry if Oliver's physical characteristics don't match Ana's, lets just pretend that for this story, they do.

Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews. This is starting to get repetitive but I really am grateful that you all appreciate and enjoy this story. Thank you.

Chapter 9 These Are My Confessions 

For a moment no emotion registered on Draco's face. A thick silence hung in the air. Hermione was fingering the hem of the overly large sleeping shirt, a nervous habit of hers, as she waited for his response. Draco was at a lost for words, not really comprehending that the father of Ana, _the man that got Hermione knocked up_ as he liked to think of it, was none other than Quidditch star Oliver Wood. Finally Hermione let out an aggravated sigh, obviously annoyed at his delay in response. She opened her mouth to question him, then…

"Wood?" he asked. His eyes were slightly larger than normal and a disbelieving look graced his features, the only emotion besides anger that he'd allow himself to openly show. "Oliver bloody Wood is the bloke that knocked you up?" And the award for the least amount of tact goes to Draco Malfoy.

"Hey!" Hermione responded indignantly, clearly offended. "I don't appreciate that!"

Draco waved a dismissive hand at her, feeling that his lack of discretion was not the most important topic of discussion at the moment. "Yes, yes," he quickly responded, "it's the same either way I say it: Oliver Wood impregnated you, Hermione Granger."

Hermione glared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. It was true either way he put it, polite or totally rude; Oliver Wood did get her pregnant. And what exactly was she expecting? This was Draco Malfoy after all, the wizard who's never been polite to her since they first met back in first year at Hogwarts. But, Hermione regretfully admitted to herself, he had improved.

Draco looked at her expectantly. He was waiting for a story, and from the looks of Ana and Hermione's current life, it was going to be a very good story. He positioned his body so that now he was now turned toward Hermione and properly facing her.

"Well, you're not just going to leave it at that, are you?" he questioned her. "Go on now, continue with your story Granger." He picked up his mug of hot chocolate and took a sip of the lukewarm liquid, his eyes never leaving Hermione's.

She thought of his proposition. She didn't want Draco Malfoy knowing of the skeletons in her closet, but sometimes it was better to share your problems with an unbiased person you barely knew than with one of your best mates. Well, as unbiased as Draco could get anyway. Sighing once and taking a sip of her hot chocolate as well, Hermione began her story of days past, feeling as if it had happened just yesterday instead of six years ago.

"Oliver and I met again the November after graduation," she started. "The War was all but over: Death Eaters were captured left and right and Voldemort was steadily loosing power nd support. It was at a party in honor of Ron's new career as Chaser for the Chudley Cannons. The whole team was there, including Keeper Oliver Wood."

"Didn't he sign with Puddlemere United after graduation?" interrupted Draco.

Hermione nodded her head slowly, as if uncertain of this fact as well. "I believe he did, but in a desperate attempt to finally win a few games, the Cannons offered him a handsome amount to play with them. Anyway," she waved a hand through the air to dismiss the Quidditch topic, "I hadn't seen him since I was fourteen, when he graduated from Hogwarts. Back then, I just saw him as an over fanatical Quidditch lover, nothing very special. I never thought him very dashing as well, not like most of the female population at Hogwarts. But when we met again…" Hermione trailed off and looked at down at her hands, a small smile present on her lips. She was reminiscing, Draco could tell that much, and as much as it pained her to remember those days, it also brought so much happiness with it too.

"It was just different when we met again," she began after looking up at Draco. "There was something there. We talked all through the night and met again a week later for lunch. Then we started dating. It was difficult at first, his training and my inconsistent work hours. I had no steady job at that moment; I worked with other Aurors devising plans to finally bring down Voldemort. Finally, with the defeat of Voldemort the following February-which might I add was not as dramatic as many thought it to be, what with Voldemort already half dead when Harry finally Aveda'd him for good-life had gone fairly back to normal. During those first few months, our relationship was tested many times, but we managed to come out of it hand in hand. That November, on our one-year anniversary, we moved in together. I was now working for the Ministry and he, still with the Chudley Cannons with Ron. It was perfect: I was in love with a great man, I had a wonderful job, and life in the Wizarding world was slowly rebuilding after the defeat of Voldemort. We had a wonderful life together that year, but then…" she paused for a moment to think. "…life threw us a surprise."

"Ana," Draco provided for her. She nodded slowly but stayed silent for a few moments. Draco closed his mouth and watched her, totally engrossed in the former Head Girl's story. He sat quietly waiting for her to continue.

"Two months before my twentieth birthday I found out I was pregnant," she began. "And by the time I was twenty-one, Oliver and I were the proud parents of a baby girl." She shook her head and smiled, as if not believing this concept as well. "Of course, I had to quit my job at the Ministry to watch over Ana. I became a full time mother while Oliver's work schedule seemed to separate him more from Ana and I. But we lived through those first few months with Ana. Even though I had to quit my job and now Oliver was barely home, I still thought our life to be perfect. We were still deeply in love. 

"But, a letter brought our world crashing down. Oliver received a letter in March, around the time of Ana's first birthday. It was an offer to join the Fitchburg Finches, winner of the United States Cup seven years running. But that was the problem: they're an American team based in America. We talked and argued over it: he wanted this opportunity but I didn't want to leave my friends and family in England. Finally, he decided to decline the offer and remain in England, as Keeper of the Chudley Cannons.

"One day in October, I took Ana with me to visit my family. Oliver was at practice, as usual. We returned home the following morning, expecting to find Oliver there for it was his day off. But, instead, we found an empty house. After I dropped off my sleeping daughter in her crib, I noticed a rose and a note on the mantelpiece of our fireplace. The note said-" Hermione stopped suddenly and drew in a shaky breath. It was always hard to tell this part of the story, the heartbreak still fresh in her mind and in her heart.

Draco could tell that this was difficult for her. Something in the back of his mind was telling him to stop Hermione from telling the rest of the story, to tell her that he understood and that he didn't need her to finish. But he didn't say any of that. He stayed silent as he watched the play of emotions run through her face.

"The note said," she began again, "that no matter what he still loved Ana and I, but he had to take the Fitchburg Finches' offer. He said he'd be moving to America and he hoped that soon we'd follow. He apologized profusely, said his farewells, and that was it. He left just a few weeks shy of our three-year anniversary. I haven't heard from him or seen him since."

Silence filled the room as Hermione finished her story. She was staring at the fire again, watching as magic kept it from ever dying or dimming. Although Draco was starring at Hermione's profile, his mind was somewhere else. On top of still processing this new information, Draco Malfoy was at a total loss for words. Finally…

"Grade A arsehole, that one is," began Draco. "His bastard level is up there with Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort." And he honestly meant it. What man would leave his child and the woman that he loved for some job opportunity in America? Only a Quidditch freak like Oliver Wood, Draco realized.

A smile, a real smile, graced Hermione's face as she turned to look at him. The look in her eyes seemed to be both grateful that he felt the same for Oliver and mocking that he would exclude himself from the 'high bastard level' list.

"I was sad at first," she began again, "then came the anger. Then the heart breaking realization that I was alone, without a job, and with a one-year-old child to take care of. Ana and I moved in with my parents a week later. With the Ministry of Magic now fully back and on its feet, jobs in the Ministry were hard to come by and I refused to accept any "help" in finding jobs from Harry. So I worked as a clerk at Ready For Wear. In a few months, Ana and I moved into a flat and so began our unorthodox life.

"Life was hard, to say the least. Everywhere I went, whispers followed me. 'There goes Hogwarts' smartest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw, working as a clerk in a Malfoy owned business.' Or sometimes I would just get dirty looks or a shake of the head. I was unmarried and with a child, it was difficult and very infuriating. Sometimes I just felt like picking up a rock and pelting it at the next person who'd stare at me and Ana or whisper every time they saw me," Hermione smiled to the fire and let out a small laugh.

Draco smirked, knowing full well that Hermione was capable of doing just that, and then some. She had a fiery temper that could usually be controlled but came out full force once she was aggravated enough.

"And so I worked my way to become manager at the Ready For Wear in Diagon Alley. Our life is far from a fairytale. I stopped believing in fairy tales and happy endings a long time ago. Money is still a problem with us, that's why I took up this offer of yours. I hate accepting charity from either my friends or my family. I can do this on my own, I've already done it alone for nearly five years."

A stronger feeling of respect grew within Draco. Not many people can pull of what Hermione had done for five years. Hell, he didn't even know if he could do all that: dealing with the whispers and the stares, the constant fear that maybe next month will find you on the streets without two cents to your name, and taking care of not only yourself but a child. True to the lion that symbolizes her former Hogwarts house, Hermione was bold and brave. And Draco couldn't help but respect her, who wouldn't?

"Do you regret it?" asked Draco quietly. If his life ended up the way hers had, he knew he would regret it.

"No," Hermione responded with a small smile. "I have never regretted having Ana. She is the best thing to ever happen to me and I would go through it all once more if it meant that I would still have her. Life might be hard right now and I know that I am capable of doing so much more than just manager of a clothing store, but with Ana," she smiled, a memory of her daughter no doubt running through her head, "she just makes it all worth it. I love her to pieces."

An emotion akin to jealousy rose within Draco. The way Hermione spoke so lovingly of her daughter forced all his past desires to be loved by his parents to resurface. Though Ana was holding Hermione back from ever achieving real greatness, Hermione never saw her as a burden or a mistake. She never blamed Ana for her life ending up the way it did.

"So if there's no regret, why all this secrecy Granger?" he asked after pushing down his feelings of jealousy. "Afraid that she'd favor the great Quidditch star Oliver Wood over her mum?" He smirked at her and lifted an eyebrow.

She glared at him for a moment before responding. "And you wonder why you're alone," she shot back, eyes narrowing into slits.

"Touché," he responded with a simple bow of the head, his smirk never wavering. Sometimes, it was nice to know that not much has really changed, that even though they confessed their secrets to one another, they could still go back to throwing insults at each other, just like when they were immature children.

Silence followed.

"It's not so much as fear or rejection from my own daughter that's keeping me from telling her," she began after a bit, "it's more about me, actually."

"Well that's a bit selfish, don't you think?" Draco countered with a raise of his eyebrow.

"You don't understand Malfoy," she said a little louder and more forceful than before. "That heart wrenching pain that occurs here," she placed a hand above her heart, "every time I talk about him, that's just unbearable. I can't take it if I had to constantly recall our time spent together because Ana just wants to hear a bed time story of her mum and dad."

"But that still doesn't give you the right to deny Ana the information that she so badly wants," he shot right back, sounding as if he were talking to a child and patronizing them for doing something that they knew they shouldn't have done.

"Have you ever loved and lost Malfoy?" she asked, looking straight at him and ignoring his statement yet giving him her answer in a roundabout way.

Shaking his head he quoted, "It's better to have loved then lost then never to have loved at all."

She snorted in a not-so-ladylike fashion. "Obviously the bloke who came up with that load of garbage had never been dumped before." Draco smirked and nodded his agreement. She sighed, sounding unusually defeated, and continued. "I know Ana deserves to know everything about her father and it's selfish of me to keep that information a secret from her just because it hurts to talk of him, but tell me, how do I tell a child that her father left her for a job opportunity in America?" She stared deep into his eyes, as if expecting an answer to her rhetorical question. When he provided none, she sat back on the couch and rested her head on the top of the couch.

They sat quietly for a moment, taking in all that had happened. Hermione idly stared at the ceiling and scanned her eyes over the bookshelves that reached that height. Draco clutched his mug in his hands and turned his attention to the rise and fall of the fires' flames.

"So you and that git never married?" Draco finally said, not bothering to turn his attention away from the fire.

"That git," she started, sitting up and smirking at Draco, "never proposed, but we planned it. This-," she held up her right hand, where a simple yet elegant gold ring sat on her ring finger, as Draco turned to inspect the ring as well, "-he gave me for my birthday and our two year anniversary. It's a promise ring: a promise that we'd always love each other and that someday we will get married." She let out a small, bitter laugh as she twisted the ring around her finger. "Promises are made to be broken."

There was a small pause before Hermione spoke again.

"I've heard from many a source that Oliver is living splendidly in America," she spat out bitterly, her face darkening slightly and her eyes narrowing. It was obvious to anyone that the whole situation that she was put through hardened the once warm and loving Gryffindor. She learned her lesson about love and refused to subject herself to such pain ever again. She grew up; she was neither naïve or delusional. She expected nothing out of intimate relationships and waited until the day that the phone calls and the dates suddenly stopped and it was back to Hermione and Ana once again.

"His loss," Draco added simply with a shrug. She turned startled brown eyes to him and lifted a brow. He rolled his eyes and elaborated. "Ana's a wonderful child and you-" he smirked before going any further "as much as it pains me to admit it Granger, you're not half bad."

A corner of her mouth lifted into a smile as she stared back at him and took in his compliment. She nodded her head once at him and he returned the action. They stayed like that for a bit, brown eyes staring deep within gray. They knew that somewhere along the course of the night, their relationship had altered. It was slight, but even so, it was still a change. She knew a few of his secrets, and he hers. This relationship of sorts of theirs was bound to change, whether it would grow to become one of friendship or an even stronger hatred was a question they had no answer for. Or maybe it would grow to be something more…

A few minutes passed as they sat there, staring at each other. If Draco and Hermione were two completely different people, the situation that they were currently in would have been considered fairly intimate: the fire providing a faint glow to the darkened room, Hermione and Draco less than half a meter away from each other, and eyes staring deep within the other person's. If they were any two different people, Draco would have leaned in slowly and would softly place a lingering kiss on Hermione's lips. They would slowly break apart, smiling shyly at one another and life as Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy wouldn't seem so bad.

But not _that_ much has changed. No strange feelings or desires to kiss the other person passed through any of their minds. No sudden realizations that they loved each other occurred. Instead, they were left with a gentle warmth that engulfed their body, a sort of understanding of "the enemy." It frightened both Hermione and Draco slightly, but they accepted it and saw it as an early Christmas gift, for finally understanding ones enemy was truly something beautiful.

Finally breaking the eye contact, Hermione sat back against the sofa and sighed deeply.

"It's getting late," she stated more to herself than Draco.

A slight nod from Draco.

"We should be getting to bed"

Another nod.

"Right," she said, leaning over and grabbing both mugs in one hand and the kettle in another. "I'll just take these down to the kitchen then."

She made a move to rise but was stopped when Draco placed a hand on her arm. "Don't bother," he said. And with a simple wave of his wand, both the mugs and the kettle were gone from the table and were most likely down in the kitchens.

After sending the dirty dishes to the kitchen, both Draco and Hermione stood from the couch and stretched, tired from not only the late hour but also the revelations that had occurred that night. They stood from the couch and made their way back to the room, with Hermione a bit ahead of Draco. And as they settled down for the night, Hermione spoke.

"Malfoy, I'd appreciate it if-" she paused, thinking of a way to phrase her intentions. "I'd really like it if you and Ana didn't get so…close."

"And why not?" asked Draco crossly. He scowled at the darkness and glared at the canopy above his head, for he it was his night for the bed. He hadn't realized until that moment just how attached he was slowly becoming to Ana. And plus, no one tells Draco Malfoy what he can or cannot do.

"It's great that you're getting along splendidly with Ana, which is a feat within itself you getting along with anybody, but I just don't want her to get too attached to something temporary. She doesn't need another person to leave her life," she finished with a sigh, hoping that Draco would understand where she was coming from.

He was silent for a while, contemplating her requests. "I understand," he replied finally, "and I'll do what you request of me."

She smiled and nodded once in the dark. Draco Malfoy actually obeying orders from Hermione Granger? Maybe more has changed than what she previously perceived. "Goodnight Malfoy"

"Goodnight Granger"

It was a beautiful December day. Christmas was a little less than a week away and everyone could feel that happiness and joy usually associated with the holiday floating around in the air. Schools were out for the winter holidays and children played out on the fresh, newly fallen snow. Men and women alike took sometime off work to celebrate the holiday as well. No Scrooges or Grinches were around to ruin the festive time for anyone. There was just something about the Christmas holiday that made even the most ill mannered people just a bit more bearable.

On this fine December afternoon, Ginny Potter walked around her and Harry's house, absentmindedly tidying up here and there. Harry was off at work and Ginny was at home, still without a job. After cleaning the entire house with simple spells, she had gone back and decided to tidy the house the muggle way. Taking after the matriarch of the Weasley clan, Ginny found cleaning therapeutic and very much enjoyed doing it the muggle way. Also, it gave her something to do while her husband was off at work in the Ministry.

She had just settled down at the kitchen counter to decide what to make for dinner when a knock at the door interrupted her. Sighing a bit overdramatically, Ginny stood from the counter and slowly made her way to the front door.

Another knock came from just outside her house, this time louder and a bit faster. Rolling her eyes, Ginny slowed her steps and took even more time in reaching the door. Once again, another impatient knock, now longer and much louder.

"I'm coming," she called out to the unexpected and impatient visitor, clearly annoyed. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm coming."

She opened the door a bit too forcefully, still a bit ticked off at the guest. Before having a chance to fully look at the man in front of her, for she noticed in all her huffing and puffing that the person standing across from her was indeed male, he spoke.

"Hullo Ginny," he softly greeted her in a voice that sounded oddly familiar.

Looking up into his face, she let out a soft gasp before responding.

"Oliver"

A/n: Ok, raise your hand if you knew that was going to happen. Everything's too easy for them now, adding Oliver adds more complications. And plus, this is what happens in the movie, although not exactly in this way. It adds a fun little quirk to the story. And I'm sorry that this chapter is a lot shorter than my others, but nothing else really seemed appropriate to add to this chapter.


	10. To Incur the Wrath of a Weasley

A/n: I apologize profusely for the long wait. I had about seven pages typed up a week after I posted Chapter 9, but my finals snuck up on me and so this was pushed to the back of my "to-do list." But not to worry, I am done with finals and school so now I have more time to work on this story. And this chapter I think is my longest so far, just to make up for the shortness of my previous chapter. 

Once again, thank you all for reviewing my story. I am extremely happy that you've enjoyed my story and my writing. Thank you all once again and I hope you all watch the third Harry Potter movie.

**Chapter 10 To Incur the Wrath of a Weasley**

Quickly regaining control of the situation, Ginny put aside her momentary surprise, glared hard at the sandy haired man in front of her, and slapped him. Hard. The sound resonated through the empty streets of the December afternoon. He grabbed his red cheek and turned back to face her, rubbing his hand over his swollen face.

"I guess I deserve that," he responded with a small quirk of his mouth.

"You guess?" Ginny blanched. She stared at him with wide eyes and mouth hanging wide open. "You bloody bastard, you deserve all that and more."

"Ok, ok I get it," he said by way of apology, raising both his hands in defeat and as a way to calm the red head's bubbling temper. He looked over her shoulder and into her house. "Can we continue this inside?"

She glared menacingly at him, the rise and fall of her chest very distinctive as she restrained from strangling her best friend's ex-boyfriend. To her, Oliver Wood was one of the biggest bastards ever to have walked the earth, second only to Voldemort. Her eyes narrowed into small slits as she pushed the door open further.

"Shut the door behind you," she hissed as she turned around and made her way to the living room. Oliver followed and did what she asked.

She sat down on one of the couches, glaring hard at Oliver as he sat down across from her. They were silent for a bit: Oliver clasping and unclasping his hands, looking anywhere but Ginny, and Ginny never taking her eyes off him for a single second. She sat with her legs tucked under her, inspecting how much he'd changed since the last time she saw him. Ginny always thought Oliver was a good man, a bit overly fanatical about Quidditch, but what man isn't? She supported Hermione and Oliver's relationship one hundred percent and was ecstatic to learn that they were with child. She always had this picture in her head of Hermione and Oliver's wedding. But when he left, without so much as a proper goodbye, all respect and affection for the man were thrown out the window. She hated him, honestly and truly hated him.

"Look Ginny, I'm sorry-" he began, breaking the thick silence in the room.

"I'm not looking for an apology," she interrupted, her glare never once wavering. "Nothing you say can possibly make me like you again. You are a bastard, Wood. And besides, it's not me you owe an apology."

"I know," he responded with a sigh, dropping his head and looking at his hands once again. "I feel bloody awful for-"

Rolling her eyes, Ginny stood from the couch, interrupting Oliver mid sentence. He looked up to find her glaring, her right arm stretched and pointing to the front door.

"Out," she said calmly. The Weasley temper was one to contend with, but when a Weasley was calm when he or she should've been red with rage…well that was a whole different story.

"Ginny, please, let me explain," he responded standing up, eyes filled with shock and a sort of disparity.

"There is nothing to explain," Ginny roared, eyes alive with the infamous Weasley temper. "Do you know what you put them through? Do you understand how hard life has been for them? You think that you can just walk back into their lives as if nothing happened and everything will be great again? Well guess what Wood? Life does not work like that," she ended in a huff, her chest rising and falling very rapidly. Her mane of usually tame red curls resembled her fury exactly, wild and falling every which way.

"Gods I know all that," he responded, falling back on the couch. "I know I'm a bloody idiot for doing what I did and I'm sorry, I really am," he finished looking up at the fiery red head.

Ginny dropped her arm but not her glare. With glare still intact she sat back on the couch. If Oliver hadn't had done what he did, Ginny would have actually felt sorry for the bloke. His head was down, his hands threaded through his unkempt sandy blonde hair and lightly tugging at it. He was the picture of desperation. But, Ginny felt no remorse or sorrow for the Quidditch star sitting on her couch.

"What do you want Oliver?" Ginny finally asked with a sigh, vocalizing the question that was on her mind since seeing him at the front door. His head shot up, a spacey almost lost look in his eyes before he composed himself and put on a blank mask to cover the real emotions he was feeling inside.

"I want to make it all right," he answered, blue eyes on blue. He looked deeply into Ginny's eyes, hoping that she'd understand that he truly did want to make everything better. She wasn't easily swayed.

With a snort and an eye roll Ginny responded. "You're one goodbye and four years too late for that."

"I'm trying, aren't I?" he countered with a glare, fed up of Ginny's unwillingness to listen to him. Granted he did deserve the cold shoulder, but what happened to the meaning of second chances? Surely he did deserve one, didn't he?

"Did your conscience suddenly kick in after a four year relapse?" she replied with the same tone. "It doesn't work like that Oliver. You coming back won't make everything suddenly 'all right.' Hermione and Ana-"

"Ana," he repeated, his eyes shining with the same light usually reserved for Quidditch. "Ana."

"Yes Ana," repeated Ginny slowly.

"How is my daughter?" Oliver asked, that famous winning smile that catapulted him into the hearts and homes of millions of girls now lighting up his previous depressed and sorrow filled face.

"The audacity!" Ginny responded, a look of clear disgust and astonishment shadowing her normally beautiful facial features. She stood, forcing him to stand as well. With exceptionally long strides, she found herself standing directly in front of him, her right index finger pointing directly in front of his face. "You think you deserve to be her father? Were you there when she took her first steps? And how about her first words? Did you hear them? Were you there when she'd wake up in the middle of the night, scared out of her mind that men in dark cloaks would take her from her mum? And where were you when she'd hope and pray and wish that somehow, someday, her _father_ would come back to her? Did you hear her wishes?" She stopped to take a breath, slightly winded from her mini tirade.

Oliver dropped his eyes, a slight tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Yes he was ashamed and embarrassed that he missed the important "firsts" in his daughter's life, but most of all he felt awful. He felt terrible for not being there for his daughter, for not being able to hold her or comfort her when she'd wake up crying from nightmares. A royal jackarse is what he thought himself to be. Eyes downcast, Oliver shook his head.

"Donating a few sperm cells does not make you her father," she ended rather blatantly. She was glaring at him maliciously as if he was the lowest form of scum imaginable. She dropped her arm and with a shake of her head, walked back to the couch. Without all the yelling and reprimanding, Ginny looked tired and spent. This meeting of theirs left her physically and emotionally drained. She was tired and was in desperate need of a quick nap.

Oliver stood there starring at Ginny's form on the couch, not really knowing what to do. He was silent; the loud, outspoken, Quidditch star rendered speechless by a Weasley. Many thoughts were running around in his head, mainly of his daughter and how he just abandoned her. And the worse part of the whole situation was that Ginny was right: helping create Ana did NOT make him her father.

"Just leave Oliver," she said wearily with her eyes closed. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, too exhausted to do much else.

"But-" he started.

"Just leave," she interrupted. She opened her eyes to find him standing where she left him, eyes and mouth wide open with shock. She stood from her seat and walked towards the door, silently indicating him to follow her. Which he did.

Ginny opened the door for him and stepped to the side to allow him to walk through. Silently and with a nod in her direction, he stepped out of the Potter residence but before the door could close completely in his face, he stuck out his arm and held it in front of him.

"I just want to know how they're doing," he said with true sincerity. He looked at her with pleading eyes, begging her to at least tell him that much.

Sighing, Ginny answered truthfully. "They're doing fine without you." And with that, she closed the door on his face and retreated to her room for her much needed rest.

For a while Oliver just stood there, starring at the large oak door. After a bit he just turned and walked away.

* * *

"How about this one?" Blaise asked, holding up a beautiful light yellow cashmere sweater.

"Honestly Blaise you're married to her, you should know this," answered Draco with a raise of an eyebrow and a smirk.

"Speaking of which," responded Blaise, putting down the yellow sweater and sliding up next to Draco, "you're beautiful wife could use a new sweater or two."

Draco turned to look at Hermione and Ana, who were both across the store looking for gifts for their family. They were in a large department store in the middle of muggle London, another brilliant muggle activity from Monsieur Deville of course, doing a few of their Christmas shopping.

"I'm sure," said Draco simply. He forgot as temporary husband, he was obliged to give something to Hermione for Christmas. But the problem was he just didn't know her enough to know what she wanted. Sure he could give her a book, but honestly, how many times has Hermione received a book for either a birthday or Christmas present? It must be getting old by now.

Ana came running to them from the other side of the store with a dress of sorts in her tiny hand, her mother following closely behind.

"Daddy," she called to Draco. He looked down at the little girl then back up at her mother, locking eyes with Hermione. He remembered her plea from the other night: keep his distance from Ana. He tore his eyes away from Hermione and looked back down at Ana with a small smile on his face. "Look at this dress daddy," she held the small dress in front of him, "isn't it pretty?"

He smiled a little more at her childish antics. "Yes Ana, it's very lovely. Why don't you show your mum?" His tone was slightly reserved, a bit detached and not at all how it used to be when he usually spoke to Ana.

She pouted slightly, ever so slightly, but smiled brightly when Monsieur Deville commented on it. "Oui it is très magnifique"

Hermione walked up to them then and caught Draco's eye. Her eyes said a silent thank you before he nodded his response. Draco Malfoy could have been called every bad word imaginable, but he did not break his promises. He would create some space between Ana and himself; that is if he remembered.

Hermione stood beside him as the other three from their group walked away to observe the other dresses on the rack. Hermione smiled as Blaise and Monsieur Deville picked out dresses for Ana. Ana would smile brightly if they chose a dress she liked but she'd wrinkle her nose slightly if she didn't like their choice. Hermione let out a small chuckle as she watched them. Draco cast her a sideways glance, but did nothing more.

Tentatively, but with some of that Malfoy confidence, Draco draped an arm around Hermione's shoulder. She tensed considerably and her eyes widened slightly. Draco was surprised that not many people really noticed.

"What are you doing?" she hissed quietly at him, all the while smiling and looking at her daughter, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville. She may have agreed to this false marriage, but she said nothing of public displays of affection. She enjoyed a good handholding but never liked anything more. And what made it even more awkward and uncomfortable was the fact that it was Draco Malfoy's arm around her shoulder.

"I'm putting my arm around my _wonderful_ wife," he responded with a snort. She could be so uptight sometimes. "It'll look good to Monsieur Deville."

She nodded once but didn't ease her tension. She was as solid and straight as a board. She understood that it was all just a façade, but that thought didn't calm her. _Relax Hermione_ she chided herself. Just as she was growing more and more comfortable with the thought of his arm around her, Draco spoke.

"Relax," he whispered with a smirk as he slightly squeezed the shoulder under his hand. She jumped from the unexpected move and let out a small surprised squeak. He chuckled from beside her but didn't turn to her glaring face, instead opting to keep his gaze forward.

Glaring daggers at the blond beside her, she pinched his side, hard. He growled low in his throat so as not to attract attention and tightened his hold around her shoulders. _That'll teach him_ she thought smirking as his gray eyes clouded over with suppressed anger and annoyance.

Things would have gotten more serious and probably a bit bloody as well if not for Ana, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville's return. They pasted on a bright, and extremely fake, smile on their face as they held back the urge to kick, slap, or pull each other's hair.

Ana felt a sort of anger bubble within her as she spotted Mr. Malfoy's arm around her mum. They weren't allowed to do that. Only her dad was allowed to display loving affections like that towards her mum. Although Mr. Malfoy was a very kind man, he was _definitely_ not her dad. She did not like the idea of another man claiming her mother. Ana was a smart girl and therefore knew that they were just 'pretending'-as she liked to say-but that didn't make it any better for her. She didn't like it one bit.

So with small steps forward, she took hold of both her mum's hands and pulled her forward to her and out of Mr. Malfoy's arms.

"Mum," she began, trying think of a cover up. "I…I have to go to the bathroom." She smiled as the words came out of her mouth. Just like her mum, she was quick minded even at the age of five. Smiling at her daughter and nodding once, Hermione grabbed Ana's hand and excused herself from the group.

Draco watched as they walked away to the bathroom. _That was odd_ thought Draco. Ana had a cold, hard look in her eyes when she drew Hermione out of his arms. It almost seemed as if she was angry with him or disapproved of his actions. He shrugged it off as possibly thinking too much on his part and turned to the other two men.

Hermione and Ana returned a few minutes later. A comfortable silence surrounded the group as they walked around the department store. They stopped at a display stand near the exit and stood, seemingly looking at the display of neckties as if they wanted to purchase a few.

"So what is your favorite Hogwarts memory?" Monsieur Deville asked of the three alums, easily breaking the silence. They all looked at each other expectantly before Blaise began.

"For me," he said, a pensive expression gracing his features, "it would have to be the Quidditch matches. Bloody awesome those were. And it got even better when I made the Slytherin team in seventh year as one of the chasers."

"Ah Quidditch," Monsieur Deville responded with a smile.

"Well I do have a list of _other_ great memories," he trailed off, making his meaning clearly obvious. He smiled, no doubt thinking back on those Hogwarts days. He smirked at the group and winked at a Monsieur Deville causing him to give a hearty chuckle.

"That's horrid," Hermione replied but smiled nonetheless.

"And you Monsieur Malfoy, what is your greatest Hogwarts memory?"

"Quidditch," he responded simply. "The chase for the golden snitch, the feel of the wind on your face, the roaring crowd beneath you, and of course finally beating Potter…that has probably got to be my most memorable Hogwarts memory." He smirked at Hermione who just rolled her eyes.

"My fondest memory…" Hermione paused, looking thoughtful. "Actually, the whole Hogwarts experience is a great memory in itself. I have to say I loved everything about my seven years there."

"Oh come now," Draco began, smirking from beside her. "We all know that you just _loved_ watching yours truly fly in the air during Quidditch games and practices. You were practically giddy when I finally caught the snitch against Potter."

She turned her head to properly glare at the blond. She wanted to yell something along the lines of 'Liar!' or 'Egotistical bastard!' But of course she didn't.

"Funny," she started, her glare not once wavering from Draco's smirking face. "I distinctly remember a certain _bouncing ferret_ inci-"

Draco's eyes widened slightly before he placed an arm around Hermione's shoulder, brought her close to him, and clamped a hand on her mouth.

"Now, now, _love_," he hissed through clenched teeth, all the while glaring at the girl in his arms. _The nerve of the girl_. "We don't want to bore Monsieur Deville with our silly childhood stories, do we?"

Oh how she hated when he used the royal 'we.' She lightly nipped at Draco's hand, which was still tightly fastened on her mouth, impeding both her breathing and speaking.

He let go immediately, holding her glare as he rubbed his hand against his sweater.

"As entertaining as I _know_ the story is," Blaise cut in with a smirk. He knew exactly what memory Hermione was speaking of and although Draco was his best friend, he did have to admit that it was quite funny. But here and now was not the place or time to argue about it. "The amount of people in this one store alone is making me a bit nervous. We should move along"

Monsieur Deville nodded, but Draco and Hermione paid him no mind. They stayed glaring at one another, each looking as if they were out for the kill.

"Come on love," Blaise turned to Ana, holding out a hand to the little girl. "Let's give your mum and dad some time to settle their spat." Ana smiled brightly at Blaise as she took his hand and together, along with Monsieur Deville, they walked out of the department store and onto the cold December day.

"They say those who fight most, love most as well," Draco and Hermione heard Blaise tell Monsieur Deville as they walked out of the store. "And those two, well if the amount of small lovers' quarrels are anything to go by, are just destined to be together…"

"What are you doing?" hissed Draco as soon as Monsieur Deville walked out of the door.

"I'm just sharing my fondest Hogwarts memory," replied Hermione mockingly.

"Do want to make me look like an idiot?"

"I don't make you look like an idiot; you accomplish that just fine without my help"

Draco let out an aggravated sigh before continuing. "I'm a well respected man in the business field, I do not need that ruined by a story of my unfortunate…ferret incident. So can we keep the embarrassing Hogwarts stories to a minimum?"

"If you hadn't had lied, then maybe I wouldn't have brought up the amazing bouncing ferret incident," she responded in annoyance.

"A joke Granger, it was merely a joke," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Well it couldn't have been further from the truth," she replied grumpily. She was still a bit peeved about it.

"Right," he said with a smirk, "you're just angry because you know it's the truth." Draco Malfoy was an interesting specimen; he could change his demeanor with a blink of an eye. He went from incredibly pissed off at Hermione to sharing jokes with her.

She rolled her eyes before turning away from him and walking towards the door. "I'll be outside with the others." And with that, she too was out the door and on the streets of muggle London.

He followed a bit after.

* * *

Oliver sat glumly at a table in a café in muggle London. He stared down at his coffee, contemplating what brought him back to England. It wasn't much really; he just got out of a year long relationship with an American muggle, only to realize that what he really wanted was the love of his love and his daughter. Of course, the fact that he was traded back to Puddlemere United had absolutely nothing to do with his return to England. Right.

Ginny's words were running through his head as he casually looked out the window. All through the streets, men, women, and children alike were walking hand in hand, no doubt Christmas shopping. Oliver smiled slightly at a little girl dragging her father and mother into one of the toy stores. Sometimes he liked to imagine that scenes like these, between a child and her parents, were actually he, Hermione, and Ana. Gods how he really did miss them.

Across the street an odd pair of a young child, a dark haired man around his age, and an older gentleman walked out of the department store. Oliver guessed that the dark haired man was the little girl's father and the older man, her grandfather. He watched as they stood away from the door, smiling and laughing and looking as if they were waiting for someone else. And then _she_ came out.

Oliver would have recognized her under any circumstances. Her brown, slightly unruly, curly hair that she hadn't bothered to magic straight…it was what truly gave her away. It was Hermione Granger. She was still as beautiful as he remembered her to be, still as bright and cheerful. His heart skipped a beat as he slowly stood from his table and walked to the window of the café.

He looked out the window, standing as close to it as he could without attracting unwanted attention, and just watched the brunette he stupidly let go so many years ago. The door to the department store opened and a white-blonde haired man walked out and headed over to the group. _He looks distinctly familiar_ thought Oliver as he craned his neck to peer around the shoppers that walked past the window, thus blocking his view. _Malfoy_ he suddenly realized as the young blonde shot the ever-telling Malfoy smirk towards the raven-haired man. As Oliver contemplated the possibilities of Hermione cavorting with a Malfoy, Draco put an arm around Hermione's shoulder as if it was the most common thing to do and began walking away from the department store. And if that wasn't shocking enough, Hermione just smiled at her once rival and didn't seem at all offended or disgusted by his move. Hell, she even looked as if she liked it!

In a flash he was out the door of the café and walking swiftly to catch up with the bunch. He walked behind the crowd, making sure to stay out of their direct vision. He kept his eyes forward but would occasionally turn to look at them. They made a right and turned into a corner. Quickly crossing the street, Oliver caught up with them but stayed quite a few distances behind. From where he was standing he could hear vague pieces of their conversation. Then, he heard the two most horrible words possible coming from Malfoy's mouth: "My wife…"

Oliver stood dead still, hearing nothing but the rapid beat of his heart. He felt as if someone ripped his heart right out of his chest, threw it to the floor, did the Irish jig on his heart, and proceeded to relentlessly cast the Cruciatus Curse. It pained him to no end to think that Hermione had married; it hurt him even more to know that she had married Draco Malfoy of all people.

Someone walked into him, causing Oliver to lose his footing for a second. He quickly planted both feet on the floor before shaking his head and looking back up at the heartbreaking scene a few paces ahead of him. The child ran up to Hermione with a smile and pulled her into a toy store, effectively drawing her out of Draco's hold. With a shake of his head, Draco followed after the little girl and brunette witch and entered the store with the other two men.

Looking into the store window, Oliver's heart really did break.

It was Ana, holding the hands of both Draco and Hermione. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning. He smiled morosely as he stared at his daughter. This was the first time he'd seen Hermione and Ana in more than four years, and it was heartbreaking. He couldn't help but thinking that that could've been him in there instead of Draco. He could've been the one laughing and smiling with Hermione and Ana.

He turned away from the small family, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before walking away. Oliver walked back up the street he came down, tears forming in his brilliant blue eyes.

* * *

He paced outside the front door of the Potter residence. After leaving Hermione and her new family, Oliver had quickly gone back to his flat to think. Tears silently streamed down his face as he threw everything he could possibly get his hands on against the wall. He watched them smash to pieces before taking out his wand and casting a quick _Reparo_ to return them back to normal. This lasted for about an hour or so, until he was all cried out.

When his sadness faded, anger quickly stepped in. He yelled at no one in particular, imagining it was Hermione, then Draco, and then eventually himself. He liked to imagine that it was all Hermione's fault, that if she just followed him to America it would all have turned out right. Or if she just waited for him, he would have swept her off her feet and they would live happily ever after. But she didn't and instead married the biggest prick to have graduated from Hogwarts since Professor Snape. But as much as he would have liked to put the blame on Hermione, even Draco, he knew that it was all his fault. It was his entire bloody fault.

And that's what led him back to Ginny Potter's house. He needed answers and he knew for a fact that he would be getting none from Hermione. Taking a deep calming breath, Oliver walked to the door and knocked. This time, Harry answered.

And this time, he didn't receive a slap. No, this time Harry punched him square on his jaw. For as dangerous as it was to incur the wrath of a Weasley, it was even more dangerous to anger Harry Potter.

"Bloody hell," growled Oliver, grabbing his face and staggering back a bit. "Was that bloody necessary?"

"I'll show you what's necessary," snarled Harry as he lunged at the blond. And he would have gotten pretty far if it weren't for his red headed wife.

"Stop it!" Ginny chastised, holding back her husband but still glaring at Oliver. "What do you want Wood?"

"You could've at least told me that Hermione was married," he answered bitterly as his eyes narrowed at Harry. His anger resurfaced as he remembered his earlier chat with Ginny. It would have made the blow less painful if he had known ahead of time that Hermione married.

"What are you talking about?" responded Harry as he brushed off Ginny's hand. "Hermione's not-"

"Oh don't lie Harry," Oliver interrupted rolling his eyes. "It's not very becoming"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

Oliver opened his mouth to answer back, but Ginny beat him to it. "Enough!" she roared, garnering both men's attention. Sounding much like her mother, she continued. "Let's continue this inside, shall we? I don't expect you want our neighbors to hear." A nod from both Harry and Oliver and Ginny was leading both into the living room. _Men _she thought before they all settled down into the couches.

"Look I know what I saw and heard," he looked at them with a desperate, almost pathetic, look in his eyes. "Hermione married Draco Mafloy."

Ginny and Harry just looked at each other, and laughed. It was hilarious to think that someone actually believed Draco and Hermione were married. They were obviously doing a really fine job in pretending if they could get a former Hogwarts student who knows of both their animosity to think that they were a loving, married couple. Ginny doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach as her laughter racked her body. Harry, on the other hand, had more control over himself than his wife. He was still laughing as he removed his glasses and wiped the tears that formed in his eyes.

Oliver's eyes narrowed as he watched them laugh. This was no laughing matter and he thought it incredibly rude that they'd laugh at such a time. And besides, what was so bloody funny about Hermione being the new Mrs. Draco Malfoy? If anything, it was bloody horrific.

"I don't see anything funny about this situation," Oliver said tersely, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back against the couch.

"So sorry," responded Harry as he and Ginny calmed themselves. A few short laughs later and they were both done.

"What's so funny about Hermione marrying Malfoy?" he asked them suspiciously with a raised brow.

"Wood, you idiot, how could you possibly think that Hermione is Malfoy's wife?" Harry asked with a slight smile, all tension from before momentarily forgotten.

"I know what I saw and head," Oliver repeated.

"Believe us, they are not married," replied Ginny as Harry vigorously shook his head.

"Then explain to me what Draco was doing with his arm around Hermione, calling her his wife?" he countered. He was elated, if not slightly confused. If Hermione's best friends said that she hadn't married Malfoy, then she hadn't.

Ginny stared at her hands as she contemplated what to tell him. The truth should have been the best thing to say, but Ginny wanted him to suffer a bit. And it looked like believing that Hermione was married to Draco was suffering enough for Oliver. And plus, the truth wasn't Ginny's to tell.

"It's…complicated," said Harry, interrupting Ginny's thoughts.

"To hell it's complicated!" Oliver said, finally losing his patience. He rubbed his face and ran his hands through his short, shabby blonde hair. Looking back at Ginny and Harry, he continued. "Just tell me, please."

"We can't," responded Ginny.

"Why not?" he asked, a sort of desperation in his voice. "Please just tell me."

"Look it's not ours to tell," said Harry, slowly growing aggravated. "Just believe us when we say that Hermione is not married, and leave Oliver."

"You expect me to be satisfied with that answer?" Oliver looked at them with wide eyes and expression that clearly stated that he thought they were mad. "I come back to England to find that the love of my life married the bastard of Hogwarts, only to have you two tell me that she isn't married and I should just take that explanation at face value?"

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes before responding. "Love of your life? You love her so much that you had to leave her and Ana for a job in America? Bull Wood, that's all bull."

"I messed up and I know it, but I'm here aren't I? And I'm trying to make it better."

"And tell me Wood, why exactly did you come back to England?" Harry asked him with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat condescending tone, waiting for Oliver to tell him that he returned not for Hermione but for a new Quidditch opportunity.

"I returned for Hermione and Ana, why else?" he responded, getting slightly angry that they'd think otherwise.

"Wrong. Try again," countered Harry with a smirk and a look in his eyes that clearly stated that he knew exactly why Oliver came back. Ginny just rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. He could be so childish sometimes.

Sighing and shaking his head, Oliver responded. "Fine. The Fitchburg Finches' new Seeker was traded in from England; he played with the Chuddley Cannons. He's a friend of Ron's and knows of Hermione through association. He told me vague stories of how Hermione and Ana were doing, and those stories brought me home."

"Wrong again. One more try Wood," Harry said shaking his head. Although all this may have been true, Harry knew that there was one very important thing that brought Oliver Wood back to England from America, and it had nothing to do with the life he left behind some four years ago.

"Fine, fine," Oliver sighed, sounding very defeated. "I came back because I was offered a better job opportunity with Puddlemere United."

"So you didn't even come back for Hermione and Ana?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide with disbelief and a bit of disgust. "You came back for a Quidditch job? Typical. Typical Oliver Wood answer."

"Hermione and Ana were part of the reason too," he responded resentfully, abruptly standing from the chair and pacing in front of Ginny and Harry. "If they weren't, I wouldn't be here, in your house, having this conversation." He began muttering to himself, walking back and forth between both walls of the Potter's living room. Occasionally he'd scratch his head or turn his attention to Ginny and Harry, but his focus was mostly on the floor in front of him.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Harry stood from the couch and walked to Oliver. Harry placed a hand on his shoulder, startling the Quidditch Keeper out of his reverie.

"Sit down, you git. You're a bloody wreck Wood," and with that Harry forcefully shoved Oliver down onto the couch. He walked back to the couch as well and seated himself next to his wife.

Seconds passed as Oliver held his head in his hands and Ginny and Harry alternated from looking at the sandy haired man in front of them to each other. Oliver really was a wreck, completely different from the cool, crisp, and confident persona he usually wears. His patience with them, not to mention his sanity as well, was wearing thin.

Ginny debated whether to tell Wood of Hermione and Draco's arrangement or not. It really wasn't her story to tell, but because of unexpected circumstances Ginny felt that revealing the true story to Oliver was more beneficial than keeping it a secret. Not that she felt like she owed Oliver anything, mind you, Ginny just knew that if Oliver wasn't told the complete story, he would do something brash and stupid like somehow find a way to Malfoy Manor and ruin everything.

"Malfoy and Hermione are not married," Ginny stated, breaking the silence in the room. Oliver looked up at her with hopeful eyes. Sighing once, she continued. "It's a farce, completely fake."

His eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent. He leaned forward in his chair, anticipating the rest of the explanation.

"The story's quite complicated and we don't know all the details," said Ginny looking sideways at Harry, "but to make a long story short, Malfoy has to pretend to be married to a muggleborn witch to impress Pierre Deville, the owner of Gladrags."

"So Hermione and Malfoy really aren't married?" Oliver asked, leaning further forward in his seat, a grin slowly forming on his lips.

A shake of the head.

"And the whole family bit is just a ruse for the sake of the business deal?"

Sighs from both Harry and Ginny and a resounding "Yes."

Oliver sat back in the chair with a full grin on his face. He didn't blow his opportunity for a second chance; there was still time for him to make it right.

"But look here Wood," Harry said firmly, turning both his wife's and the blonde's attention to him, "you will do nothing to ruin Malfoy's business deal, you understand?"

Oliver thought about this for a moment. He could easily walk into the head office at Malfoy Industries, demand to have Hermione back, and accuse Draco of setting up this family of his all while Pierre Deville looked on. _Retribution _thought Oliver as he smirked slightly. But then again he could actually benefit by knowing of Malfoy's plan. This element of surprise could work in his favor.

Looking at Harry straight in the eyes, Oliver nodded. He wouldn't do anything to ruin Malfoy's business deal, per se, but he would make it a damn hell of a lot harder for Malfoy.

"Good," responded Ginny, a stern expression on her face. "Now, get out."

* * *

"Do you have a telephone?" Hermione asked. Draco looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow. They had just recently arrived back home from their long day of shopping. "With all the rush, I forgot to inform my parents of this agreement of ours. They must be worried sick, not knowing exactly where Ana and I are."

Draco nodded once and stood from his chair. He walked out the library, Hermione closely following, and headed straight to his study. He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, where he pulled out a muggle telephone.

"Draco Malfoy, epitome of pure blood wizard, actually owns a muggle telephone?" Hermione mocked with a smirk. "Who would have thought?"

"Didn't you know?" he countered with the same mocking and playing tone. "Muggle objects are the new rave in the wizarding world."

Hermione just rolled her eyes as she sat on a chair and picked up the receiver. She dialed her parents' home number as Draco walked to the bookshelf and pulled a book out. He sat on the couch and read his book as he waited for Hermione to finish.

"Hello?" called a feminine voice through the receiver.

"Mum?" asked Hermione.

"Oh Hermione dear, your father and I have been sick with worry. Where have you and Ana been?"

"Well we've been…out," Hermione finished lamely. She felt the same nerves rise up as when she had told Harry, Ginny, and Ron of her and Draco's agreement.

"Explain yourself this instant. What do you mean by 'out'?" Hermione winced slightly as her mother reprimanded her. Her mother was a very calm woman who very rarely ever raised her voice. But when she did…

"Well you see-" But Hermione was interrupted from explaining any further as her daughter abruptly opened the door and, loudly, ran into the study.

"Mummy, mummy look what Mr. Zabini taught me to do," Ana said with a bright smile a twinkle in her dark blue eyes.

Hermione smiled at her daughter and slightly turned away from the receiver. "Not now, sweetie."

"But mummy," she protested, pouting ever dramatically.

Hermione looked beyond her daughter to Draco who was staring at her intently. His eyes held a silent question: 'May I?' She nodded slightly before he turned away from her and faced her daughter.

"Come here, love," Draco offered as he held his hand out to the little girl. "Show me what you learned." And instantly her face brightened as she took hold of the proffered hand. Hermione smiled at the endearing sight and almost forgot about her mother, if not for her nagging on the other side of the line.

"Hermione Jane Granger, what is going on?"

"Ok, ok mum I'll tell you." She sighed once and mustered up all her Gryffindor bravery. Here goes nothing…

"You know how money has been pretty hard to come by for Ana and I these past few years, and you know how I absolutely refuse pity money from anyone, right?"

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Granger replied impatiently, and Hermione could practically see her mother wave her hand dismissing the topic. "Get to the point, love"

"Well my boss offered me ten thousand galleons to fill in as his wife and Ana, his daughter for about two weeks," Hermione ended in a rush.

"What for?" her mum asked with honest perplexity.

"To secure a business deal with Gladrags"

There was a long pause before any of the Granger women responded. This time, it was Granger senior. "Well that's great honey. Mr. James is a fine young man and I hope he-"

"No mum," Hermione interrupted. Her mum obviously mistook the term boss as meaning Matthew James, the head of Ready for Wear, as opposed to the head of Malfoy Industries. "Not that boss, _the_ boss"

It took a mere second for Mrs. Granger to realize whom exactly her daughter was speaking of. Like her daughter, she was intelligent and caught on rather quickly, where else could Hermione have inherited that talent and gift?

"Draco Malfoy?" Mrs. Granger asked incredulously. "The head of Malfoy Industries?"

"Yes mum"

"The same Draco Malfoy who you'd constantly complain of during your Hogwarts years?"

A sigh escaped Hermione's lips. "Yes mum"

"The Draco Malfoy who hates muggleborns and made you cry by calling you a…what's that word again darling?"

"Mudblood," she provided with an eye roll. Honestly, her mother could be overdramatic at times.

"Yes thank you, love. That Draco Malfoy?"

"Mother yes. The one and only Draco Malfoy"

"It's times like these, Hermione, that I question your intelligence," her mum ended with a shake of the head, an act which oddly Hermione could feel through her words. "Honestly Hermione you know better than that, what with your history and all"

Another sigh from Hermione. "Mum, I've gone through this time and time again, and if I saw it as a threat to my daughter and I, then obviously I wouldn't have agreed to his proposition." She rubbed her temple with her free hand and closed her eyes. Sometimes her mother treated her as if she was a child. For Merlin's sake, she had a child!

Her mother sighed from the other side of the receiver. "I'm trusting you, Hermione. I don't like this one bit, not one bit at all, but if you have to do it, then far be it for me to stop you."

"You act as if he's bloody Voldemort," she said with a slightly raised voice.

"Well he might as well be," responded her mother. "I'm only looking out for you and Ana, love. I don't trust him. He's hurt you so much in the past, what makes it so different now?"

"Don't worry mum," Hermione responded. She smiled slightly, knowing first hand a mother's need to protect her daughter. "And besides, Malfoy's…"

And she honestly didn't know how to end that sentence. He's what? Changed? Because he hasn't really, it was just she who finally took the time to discover the Draco Malfoy, beyond the smirks and insults.

Laughter averted her attention back to her daughter and the man in question. Ana was sitting on his lap and doing some fancy thing with her hands, no doubt showing him what Blaise taught her. Laughter shone through both Ana and Draco's faces. Ana was making him laugh yes, but what was most endearing to Hermione was the fact that Draco, too, was making Ana laugh. Hermione smiled in their direction and momentarily forgot about her mother. Draco looked up at that moment and caught her eye. He shot her his infamous smirk and winked then turned back to Ana.

"He's not that bad," Hermione finished with a smile. And honestly, he wasn't.

A large sigh was heard from the other end of the receiver. "Ok, Hermione, I trust you. Just be careful. Your father sends his love, and give my regards to Ana. I love you, darling"

"I love you too mum," and with that Hermione placed down the receiver and sat back in the chair. She took a moment to go through the whole telephone conversation in her head; one phrase stuck out like a sore thumb 'He's not that bad.' _Well now that's different_.


	11. Make Him Sweat

A/n: Wow I have to say I especially enjoyed last chapter's feedback because of the lengthy reviews that actually explained why you enjoyed my story. Thank you for all the support and for understanding that I do have a life outside this story. And thank you for the compliments, they're real ego boosters and they make me want to write more. So once again, thank you.

Also, before I start I just want to say this: I promise you nothing. Yes I know this is under the Draco/Hermione section, but that's only because the story deals mostly with Draco and Hermione. But whether Hermione chooses Draco or Oliver, well you just have to wait until the end. The story can go either way actually, but I have a specific ending planned out already…and I'm not sharing any details (evil, I know).

****

**Chapter 11 Make Him Sweat**

"My money's on Bulgaria," Blaise said as he walked in and held the door open to the small bistro located inside Malfoy Industries.

"Monsieur Zabini!" Monsieur Deville sounded just a bit scandalized. "A gambling man? I never knew"

"Then you obviously don't know Blaise," replied Draco, smirking, as he walked in behind the elder man. Blaise just grinned, not at all embarrassed or fazed by his gambling.

"Besides," said Monsieur Deville, grinning mischievously, "I'd bet on France, if I was a betting man I mean." The three men laughed as they were seated at one of the tables. It was still early; there was still a good thirty minutes before work officially started. Hermione and Ana had left just as Draco and Monsieur Deville had woken up, saying something about having breakfast with her parents that morning before dropping off Ana at school. Draco and Monsieur Deville, with the ever-present Blaise of course, had decided to skip breakfast at the Manor, opting instead to eat at the little bistro in Malfoy Industries.

A waiter walked by their table, slipping a note in front of Draco. Looking up, the waiter nodded once at him then walked away. Draco looked to the two other men; they were busy discussing Quidditch and no doubt hadn't even noticed the letter slipped onto the table.

He slid it on his lap and opened it.

_Give my regards to your wonderful wife._

_O.W._

"Ow?" Draco mouthed, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. The same waiter walked over to them again, depositing three glasses of water on their table. Just as he was about to leave, Draco grabbed his arm and turned the waiter's attention to him.

"Who sent this note?" he asked in a low voice, careful not to divert Blaise and Monsieur Deville's focus to him.

Pointing at the bar, the waiter replied "That man over there, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco released the waiter and looked to where he was pointing. And there, sitting on one of the bar stools and drinking a mug of coffee, was Oliver Wood. Anger and this growing itch to hex the Quidditch star immediately replaced the initial shock and confusion in Draco. He seethed as Oliver smirked and raised his mug to him. Draco glared maliciously at the Hogwarts alum, his breathing rapidly increasing as he successfully controlled his anger and temper.

Smirking once more, Oliver placed the mug back on the counter and slipped out of his chair. He slowly walked towards the exit, egging Draco to follow him.

"If you'll excuse me," Draco said to the two men sitting at the table, his eyes never leaving the retreating figure of Oliver Wood. He stood just as Blaise and Monsieur Deville turned to him. He was halfway to the exit before either man got even one word out.

Questions like _Why?_, _When?_, and _What the hell am I going to tell Granger?_ ran through his head. But probably the most important question, _How in the name of Merlin did he find out?_, seemed to escape Draco. He was determined to catch up to the other man and not only get answers to these questions, but to show Oliver exactly what he thought of him.

Draco followed Oliver quickly. He walked out of the bistro just seconds after Oliver. But it seemed that those seconds where too late; Oliver was nowhere in sight. Draco walked out of the Malfoy Industries building and onto the streets of wizarding London. He looked every which way, hoping that Oliver was waiting for him outside the doors of the building. But of course he wasn't. _He apparated_ thought Draco as he stepped back into the building and walked back in the bistro.

He still wore a hard glare as he sat back down at the table, two curious sets of eyes staring intently at him. How could he let him get away? Draco was itching for a fight, to hit him just once. He slowed his breathing just as the food was placed in front of them.

"Draco"

Why exactly did Oliver return to England after a four-year absence? And why now of all times, when Draco's business deal strongly relied on his relationship with Hermione?

"Monsieur Malfoy"

More importantly, how did Oliver know of his and Hermione's "marriage"? And by the smirk that Oliver had sent him, he seemed to know of the real story behind it. But how?

"Malfoy, you git," Blaise said, finally bringing Draco's focus back to them by throwing a balled up tissue at his head. Draco turned his hard glare at a smirking Blaise.

"That was unnecessary," Draco hissed as he flicked the tissue back at Blaise. The raven-haired man simply moved to the opposite side, successfully dodging the tiny makeshift ball.

Deciding to put thoughts of Oliver aside for the moment, Draco joined in Blaise and Monsieur Deville's conversation and ate his breakfast.

* * *

Oliver smirked to himself as he apparated back to the Leaky Cauldron. He felt extremely giddy that he was able to ruffle up the feathers of the usually calm and laid back Draco Malfoy. He thought his plan was ingenious; drop hints of knowing of Draco's false marriage with Hermione then disappear before Draco had a chance to even speak with him. To him, it was perfect, make that little bugger sweat.

But what Oliver couldn't exactly put his finger on was that look of pure hatred and contempt that clouded Draco Malfoy's gray eyes as his eyes rested on him. Surely it was just because some unnecessary person knew of the business deal. Right? He doubted very much that that anger was directed to him specifically and had anything to do with what he stupidly did to Hermione. Hermione wouldn't willingly tell him of their past, would she? It was a crazy notion, a stupid one even. But there was something deeper than the prospect of Oliver revealing the truth to Pierre Devil hidden in Draco Malfoy's glare.

Oliver fell atop his bed, suddenly feeling very exhausted and spent. His happy attitude dampened considerably as the thought of Draco Malfoy knowing of his stupid mistake became a very real possibility. But even with this, it still didn't mean that he couldn't have fun with the once Slytherin Seeker. He, Oliver, held the truth of the story behind Draco and Hermione's marriage, and he could just as easily "accidentally" let that secret slip to someone very important, Pierre Deville maybe.

He moved closer to the edge of the bed, flipping over on his stomach along the way. With one arm he grabbed a bag and ruffled through it. He smiled as he found what he was looking for. Taking the folded paper out, he rolled over on his back, unfolded the paper, and smiled. It was a picture of a distant past, a picture of himself, Hermione, and their newly born daughter Ana. It was creased down the center, where through the years he'd constantly fold and unfold it, and the sides were haggard and dog-eared due to the various places he had kept it in. It was a wizard's picture of them, one of the first family pictures they had taken. He had his arm around Hermione who carried their little baby girl in her arms. They were laughing and smiling and occasionally picture Oliver would drop a kiss on both picture Ana and picture Hermione.

It was the only picture he took when he left Hermione and Ana that day. And since that day, he's never gone anywhere without it. He kept it in his pocket during every Quidditch game, he carried it with him whenever he traveled, he even held it close to his heart whenever he went out on dates. Lonely nights in America had him thinking over his choice of dream job over dream love. He loved Hermione deeply, or at least that's what he thought, but his dream since his childhood had been to be a world famous Quidditch star. He fulfilled his dream, but at the loss of his love and their daughter. Oliver was ashamed to admit it, but if given the same choice to make, he wouldn't have done anything different; business before pleasure.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, softly caressing the picture of Hermione and Ana.

* * *

"The post came in while you were away, Mr. Malfoy." From behind a desk, a red headed, twenty-something year old woman held out a pile of letters to Draco.

"Thank you Doris," he responded to his secretary, taking the proffered letters and leading Blaise and Monsieur Deville into his office.

Draco deposited his letters on his desk, not bothering to skim through them, and sat down heavily on his chair, Blaise and Monsieur Deville taking the seats across from his desk. They quickly fell into discussion of their deal, a topic which made both Draco and Blaise very very happy. A few odds and ends were tied up, but still oddly, Monsieur Deville still did not sign the final papers. It seemed as if he still had some doubts of the credibility of Malfoy Industries, after all, it wasn't but a few years ago that the head of said company was none other than Lucius Malfoy. Last minute precautions on Monsieur Deville's part.

Midway through their conversation, a piece of parchment caught Draco's eye. It was wedged in between two letters, in the stack of letters he had received that morning but still hadn't gone through. The parchment lay on the stack, sans envelope. It practically yelled 'Read me!'

Draco switched off from staring intently at Monsieur Deville to longingly looking at the parchment. He was antsy and a bit peeved off as well. He was not a very patient person and more times than not, his curiosity would get the best of him. So still seemingly directing his full attention to Monsieur Deville and Blaise, Draco nonchalantly picked up the letter and slid it to his lap. As soon as Blaise began to talk, he slowly, and with little noise, unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_I very much doubt that you'd like the secret behind your "marriage" to be revealed to a certain business owner. I don't believe Pierre Deville will take too kindly to the lies you have been feeding him. You still have many enemies Malfoy; I'd watch my back if I were you, who knows what they'd do with such enticing information._

O.W.

_Oh that bloody bastard_ Draco thought, his grip tightening considerably, causing the parchment to crumple in his hands. He wore a hard expression on his face. He may have thought Wood a bastard for abandoning Hermione with a child to take care of on her own, but now he just crossed the personal line. He just threatened to expose the secret that could either make or break Malfoy Industries' current business deal with Gladrags.

A glaring thought popped into his head just then; _how in the name of Merlin does he know? _There were only a handful of people that knew, and they were either Hermione's friends or family members. Draco mentally checked off the possible people who could've told Oliver. Hermione's parents were out of the question; Draco doubted that they'd so much as let Oliver even step foot inside their house, after what he did to their daughter. And then there were Hermione's best friends. They'd be just as angry with Oliver, if not more so, than her parents. But still, it was a possibility.

A cold sweat swept through him. Back in the little bistro, when he first saw Oliver, Draco hadn't even thought of the power Oliver has over the company. The thoughts running through his mind then were what he was going to tell Hermione and what exactly would Oliver do now that he was back. But now, the realization that Oliver had the power to ruin it all hit him like a brick. He was positively furious with the Quidditch player, no doubt, but he also feared for the future of this deal. He knew that Oliver wouldn't hesitate to expose him; hell none of his past schoolmates would hesitate either. He was a rather annoying little bloke back at Hogwarts. Damn

_This is probably what the prat wanted to do all along_, Draco thought. _Make me sweat, and all for nothing; cheeky little bugger may not even do anything. _But even with this thought, Draco couldn't help but be a bit nervous of Oliver's intentions.

His thoughts were suddenly drawn back to him with a simple question: "What do you think Draco?" Two questioning gazes were on him.

He nodded his head once. "Fine with me," he responded confidently, having no clue at all what exactly he just agreed to. Draco decided that he'd ask Blaise latter.

Said man looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing else of the matter. Blaise knew Draco too well, a realization that made Draco scowl slightly at his fellow Slytherin.

Draco tried desperately to put his mind off Oliver and everything that came with him and focus instead on the two men sitting in front of him. It was hard, especially when Oliver's 'lovely' letter lay clutched in his hand, serving as a reminder to things he wanted to forget at that moment. Eventually, though, his attention drifted from Oliver to Blaise and Monsieur, the letter slowly slipping out of his grasp and onto the office floor.

* * *

For an hour straight now, Ginny Potter paced in her living room, in front of the fireplace. She was torn between saving her friend from much unwanted pain and stress by not telling her of Oliver and being honest and truthful to her and preparing her for the worse. For every reason she had for telling Hermione about Oliver, a reason to not tell her about his return surfaced in her head. Ginny was working herself into a frenzy before she finally stopped dead in her tracks and came to one conclusion: tell Hermione and hope to Merlin that she wouldn't do anything that drastic to her.

She sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace and closed her eyes. She took a deep calming breath before opening them up again. With a shaky voice, she called for Hermione.

Hermione's head appeared in the midst of green smoke in Ginny's tiny fireplace.

"Morning Ginny," she greeted her, smiling brightly at her friend. "What can I do you for?"

"Someone's awfully chipper this morning," Ginny responded, trying to hide the small hitch in her voice. It worked as Hermione just rolled her eyes at her friend.

"It _is_ almost Christmas," she said as a form of explanation to her mood.

"I'm sure," Ginny just raised an eyebrow. "And it has nothing to do with a certain blond bloke?"

"Oh God no," responded Hermione, looking both mortified and disgusted. "Why do you insist that there is something there between us? You know me, you know him, and you know damn well that if it weren't for Monsieur Deville there wouldn't even be an 'us'"

Ginny just laughed, knowing the truth behind Hermione's words. "Too true," she sobered up, dropping her gaze to the carpeted floor. "Hermione, speaking of Monsieur Deville…"

Hermione turned around then, the back of her head the only body part visible to Ginny. She turned back and interrupted her friend.

"Ginny love, I'm sorry but I have to be going now. One of Malfoy's maids needs my help in something."

"Wait Hermione, this'll just take-"

"Gin, I'm very sorry but it's a bit urgent. I'll talk to you later." And with a small pop, Hermione's head, as well as the green smoke surrounding it, disappeared.

"Oliver's returned, hell bent on finding both you and Ana. He thought you and Malfoy were married; funny notion really, until he almost went mad with that simple thought. I accidentally…on purpose…intentionally told him about Pierre Deville and the business deal. He might do something dumb, so keep an eye out. So, how have you been?" Ginny continued speaking to the empty fireplace, as if Hermione were still there. By the end of her tirade, she lost the nerve to actually say what she had to Hermione.

_Sometimes, some things are better left unsaid_ she thought as she walked to the couch and fell atop it. Ginny just prayed to the fates, or whoever it was up there that seemed to have some sick pleasure in messing everything up, that Oliver would be smart enough to not contact Hermione until after Monsieur Deville left.

One could only hope.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy an owl just dropped off another letter for you," Doris's voice rang in through the room. He nodded once to her then turned back to Blaise and Monsieur Deville.

"Go down to lunch without me," he said as he walked with them to the open door. "I'll be down in a bit." Draco took the letter from Doris's hands as Blaise and Monsieur Deville nodded and walked out of the office. Closing his office door, he walked back to his desk and sat o his chair. He stared at the letter for a while before he unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_I'm itching to share this secret of yours. Treat Hermione properly, or else I might just have to send Pierre Deville a very important note._

_O.W._

"Bastard!" Draco snarled as he ripped the parchment into little bits. He was breathing heavily, his hands curled into tight fists. He was doing his best to control his temper. If he could've, Draco would've apparated to where Oliver was staying, beat him to a fine pulp, and then hex his smarmy Quidditch player arse. If only he knew where Oliver was staying…

A pinch of floo powder and a yell of 'Ron Weasley' later, the scowling head of Ron Weasley appeared in the office fireplace.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked, glaring at the blond.

"You bloody idiot! Why did you tell Wood about the marriage and the business deal? Do you not know what the term secret means? He can ruin this, and it's all your bloody fault!" He finished his rant with a scowl.

"First of all, I am not an idiot," he started, "that's like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it Malfoy? Second, I have told no one of your damn business deal. And third, did you just say Wood?"

He nodded once at the red head, glare still in place. So maybe Ron didn't tell, but Draco still didn't like him, which was reason enough to glare at him.

"As in Oliver Wood?"

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. Honestly this man should've been placed in Hufflepuff.

"Oliver's back?" Ron asked, a darkness shadowing his face that had nothing to do with Draco. Like his sister and best mate, he hated Oliver for the pain he caused Hermione and Ana.

"I don't have time for this," came Draco's exasperated reply.

"Wait! Tell me where-"

Draco just waved his hand mid-sentence, Ron's face disappearing from the fireplace. He really didn't have time to plot against Oliver with a Weasley. He had to find the person responsible for snitching, and punish then…severely.

With another pinch of floo powder and a 'Harry Potter,' the face of Harry Potter, glasses and unkempt hair and all, appeared in his fireplace.

"What is it Malfoy?" he asked exasperatedly. "I'm busy right now, so if it's not important I'd like to get back to my work."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh yes Potter," he started sarcastically. "I popped in to have a friendly chat with my best mate. So how's the weather, Potter? The wife's fine, I presume?"

"What do you want Malfoy?" his tone becoming a bit rougher.

Draco glared hard at Harry before responding. "What did you tell Wood?"

Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, talk to my wife about that. I'm busy right now." And just like that, Harry was gone.

_How rude_ thought Draco as he just glared at the fireplace where Harry's face was just moments before. He let out an aggravated sigh before picking up more floo powder and barking out 'Ginny Potter.'

An "eep!" followed by an irritated "Malfoy!" accompanied the flustered head of Ginny Weasley Potter.

"A bit high strung, aren't we Weasley?" he asked, raising a pale eyebrow. "One would think that you were keeping something."

She glared hard at him before mumbling something underneath her breath.

"What did you tell Wood?" he asked her, his tone becoming more malicious and biting.

"Nothing, Malfoy," she replied, sighing just for effect.

"Really," he said, not sounding at all convinced. "Then tell me why that prat keeps sending me letters threatening to reveal the secret behind the marriage."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. Draco smirked, knowing that he just caught her in a lie.

"I…" she began, then glared at a random spot in front of her. "I told that bastard not to do anything to ruin this."

"So you did tell him," he scowled at her. Honestly, does no one understand the meaning of secret anymore?

"Look I had to," she argued.

"No you didn't"

"Yes I did. He saw you and Hermione together and came to the conclusion that the 'love of his life' married the 'Slytherin prat.' He was about ready to ruin it all for you if I hadn't had told him that the 'marriage' wasn't real. And he promised not to do anything, but he's so desperate to see Hermione and Ana…" Ginny's eyes widened here and she clamped a hand over her mouth. She just realized that through her rant, she hinted at secrets that were best left in the dark. Hermione would kill her.

Draco just waved a hand at her. "I know about Wood"

The look on Ginny's face conveyed both surprise and confusion. "How?"

"Veritaserum is very handy," he responded sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "How else?"

"She told you?"

A nod.

"That's…odd," her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Her face was pensive as she pondered this strange revelation. Hermione never talked of what happened, and it was an unwritten law to never mention Oliver or their relationship in front of her, or to anyone for that matter. So it came as a big surprise that Hermione confided in someone about it, Draco Malfoy no less.

"The point is you told him Weasley and now I have to fix the mess you made," his eyes narrowed as he spit out his words. "Once a weasel, always a weasel."

"Look here Malfoy," her eyes ablaze with unconcealed fury, "it would have been much worse if Oliver continued to think that you and Hermione were married. Your plans would have already been ruined. And don't you dare insult me!"

"Yes I've heard it all before; you'll hex me and all that nonsense," he grunted and rolled his eyes. "Now I have to worry about Wood and his need for revenge. Honestly you'd think a grown man like him would be able to forget about a few insults from his childhood."

"I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?" her eyes narrowed in anger and annoyance.

He waved the apology away and just stared at her. They fell into an awkward pause.

"Don't tell Granger," he quietly ordered her.

"I don't plan to"

"Good"

And like her husband, she was gone from the fireplace.

Draco sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. This was all getting too complicated. He told Hermione that they should just keep the marriage between themselves, but she insisted on telling her friends, saying that they could be trusted and that they wouldn't tell a soul. Right. Draco knew there was something about Hermione's friends that he didn't like, and that was it: they made everything very complicated.

He mumbled under his breath as his hands fisted at his side. Taking three deep, calming breaths, he finally opened his eyes. Taking one more steadying breath, he rose from the chair and exited his office.

* * *

Ana hopped along the sidewalk, Hermione pulling on her arm to quicken her steps. Hermione sent her a stern look, but soon melted in a smile as her daughter beamed at her.

"Ana," she softly chastised her daughter with a smile.

"Sorry mum," she replied. She stopped her hopping and fell in step with Hermione.

Soon, they were at their flat and ready to floo to Malfoy Manor. Once inside the Manor, they went about their daily routine: Hermione prepared a light snack for Ana as Ana settled down in the library to read.

As Ana sat in one of the chairs in the Malfoy's library, she thought of telling her mum of her Christmas wish to Santa Clause. In school, her teacher had made the students write a small note for Santa Clause that told him what they wanted for Christmas. Many students in the class had trouble writing their letters, seeing as they were only five and still grasping the concept of spelling, Ana breezed through it just fine. She may have inherited her father's spunk and quirky attitude, but her love for learning was one hundred percent Hermione.

Casting a look at the door to the library, Ana slowly slid out her letter to Santa. She decided in that moment that she wouldn't tell her mum, better to just surprise her mum if, or when, her wish came true. She looked down at the paper and read her letter.

_I want daddy to come home._

It was a simple letter, just one wish, yet it meant so much to her. Sure Mr. Malfoy was a great "pretend" father, but he just wasn't _her_ dad. She liked him very much; she just didn't like it when he'd act like he was actually married to her mum.

Ana quickly pocketed her letter at the sound of her mother's approaching footsteps. Maybe this year, her wish would come true.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy," the voice of Draco's secretary interrupted the conversation in the room. "There's a Mr. Wood here to see you."

"Tell him to wait a bit," he responded, locking eyes with Blaise. He looked at him skeptically but just shook his head as Draco turned from his piercing gaze.

"Draco we'll see you at the Manor," said Blaise as they all stood from the chairs. Draco nodded at Blaise, the relief and gratitude evident in his gray eyes.

Monsieur Deville flooed back to Malfoy Manor first.

Blaise rested a hand on Draco's shoulder and held eye contact with him. They stayed silent in that position for a bit, before Draco rolled his eyes and pushed Blaise towards the fireplace. Blaise just sighed and with a swirl of green smoke, he was gone.

"Doris, bring Mr. Wood in"

Doris opened the door to Draco's office and stepped aside to let Oliver through. Quietly, she exited and closed the door behind her.

They held eye contact, gray on blue, as Oliver just stood by the door. Draco leaned on his desk as he surveyed the man. Oliver was shorter than him, but he was a bit more muscular. Well obviously, considering the fact that he's been a professional Quidditch player since he graduated from Hogwarts. But despite this, Draco didn't feel threatened or intimidated. He just glared harder at the man.

Fed up by the silence in the room, Oliver dropped his gaze and slowly made his way to Draco. He waited until standing in front of him before speaking.

"Malfoy-"

But his words were violently interrupted as Draco swung his right arm around and punched him in the jaw, right where Harry had hit him the day before.

"Bloody hell!" he roared as he grabbed the left side of his face and staggered back.

Draco cracked his knuckles for effect, glaring at the man in front of him.

"And that was just for the threats," he hissed out.

"Bollocks Malfoy," Oliver started, tenderly running his hand along his bruised jaw, "you have one hell of a punch."

"You deserve it, you prat"

"I'd thought you'd be used to the threats by now Malfoy," Oliver said mockingly. "Being a Malfoy, and all"

"I'm not talking about that," his voice grew steadily colder and his glare, a bit sharper.

"So you know, do you?" Oliver sat down on one of the two chairs in front of Draco's desk. He looked up at Draco and stayed silent until Draco walked back around his desk and sat down.

"What do you want Wood?" asked Draco, effectively breaking the tense silence. At the questioning look on Oliver's face, Draco continued. "No one makes threats without demands. This is blackmail, pure and simple."

"Blackmail is never pure and rarely ever simple," Oliver replied with a smirk, trying unsuccessfully to bring light humor into the room.

Draco rolled his eyes and scowled. "What do you want?" he hissed, slowly losing patience.

Oliver abandoned his quest for light conversion and instead returned Draco's glare. "I'm just looking for justice. You deserve to be knocked off your pedestal," his voice grew increasingly colder as he finished his sentence.

Draco rolled his eyes at Oliver's childish behavior. He hadn't seen Oliver in more than ten years, back when he was a little daddy's boy in Hogwarts, and the _man_ in front of him acted as if they were back at Hogwarts and Draco just insulted his flying or something. Honestly, if he and Hermione could momentarily put past grudges behind them, couldn't they?

"You're such a child," Draco mumbled, garnering a piercing glare from Oliver. "Besides, Wood, you would _never_ do anything that would have a bad effect on Granger," he mocked, his face contorting into a dark smirk. "Which, might I add, is ironic coming from _you_."

Oliver bolted out of his seat and slammed both his hands down on Draco's desk. He was breathing heavily and he didn't even bother to hide the look of contempt on his face. "You're one to talk Malfoy. You have done much worse-"

"Don't," Draco roared, standing from his seat and leaning into his desk as well, "judge me by my father's faults."

They both stood breathing heavily, leaning against opposite sides of the desk. Their faces were merely centimeters apart. Neither broke eye contact, but neither bothered to do much else as well. It seemed that, above all else, both men were just trying to keep their angers in check. They had touched upon sensitive subjects that were best kept locked away in a closet, never to be talked off again.

Oliver was the first to sit. He slowly lowered himself to his chair, not once taking his blue eyes off the other man. Draco followed after, keeping eye contact as well. They sat in silence, each glaring at the other full force.

Draco was clenching and unclenching his hands, giving them something to do besides hitting Oliver once again. He never liked talking of his family, and he hated it more when people judged him by their faults. He wasn't his father, he was a different person; granted he did follow his father's doctrines religiously for more than half his life, but still. And he had been trying to make a positive contribution to the wizarding world after all the horrors that Lucius helped cause. So for some Quidditch player to insinuate that Draco was a bad man because of what his father had done, well it didn't go over too lightly for Draco.

Oliver tightly gripped the armrests of his chair. Thankfully for him, for the past four years he had lived in a place where he had no ties to Hermione or anything English. He had no one to constantly remind him of his stupid mistake or to berate him for what he's done. But that still didn't stop the guilt and anguish to rise within him and settle right over his heart. And his meeting with both Ginny and Harry hadn't helped either; they just served to remind him what a horrible and foul monster he actually was. He certainly did not need Draco Malfoy to reaffirm that belief.

"Why would this affect Hermione?" Oliver finally asked.

"If Monsieur Deville agrees to our business deal," Draco began, "then she'll get paid accordingly."

"You're paying Hermione to be your wife?" he asked in disbelief. Draco lifted a pale eyebrow and nodded once. Oliver started to laugh slightly at the thought. He stopped short though when Draco dangerously narrowed his eyes at him.

"Ok Malfoy, I'll keep quiet," Oliver responded with a smirk, "for a price."

Draco sighed loudly and ran his hands through his pale blond hair. "Fine. Two thousand," he offered.

Oliver snorted before responding. "Seven thousand Malfoy, I'm sure you can manage."

"You're a world famous Quidditch player," he stated in shock, "what do you need that much money for?"

"Seven thousand," was Oliver's only reply.

Shaking his head, Draco conceded. "Fine, seven thousand galleons, but," he looked Oliver straight in the eye, "you will not try and contact Granger or Ana until after Monsieur Deville has signed all the papers and has gone back home to Paris"

"You can't keep me from Hermione and our daughter," Oliver responded, his voice growing louder and fiercer.

"No, but Quidditch can"

That effectively shut Oliver up. They lapsed into silence once again as they stared at each other expectantly. Oliver stood then, tired of Draco's presence all together.

"I'll transfer the funds to your Gringott's account," came Draco's voice from behind Oliver.

He turned to face the pale man. "I stand by what I said in my last owl. If you so much as hurt Hermione, I won't hesitate to reveal your secret."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes, but remained seated in his chair. "Oh that's rich coming from the man who broke her heart," he replied sarcastically.

"I made a mistake, I know that!" Oliver's voice grew a bit panic-stricken. He did not need this again. "I don't need you to tell me how stupid I am. I'm paying for my mistake everyday."

Draco just stared at Oliver as he silently walked to the door of his office.

"Besides," came Oliver's soft voice as he leaned against the doorframe, "why do you care?"

"I don't," was Draco's curt reply.

This time, Oliver snorted and rolled his eyes. "Be careful Malfoy, one might actually think you've grown soft." And with that, he was out the door of Draco's office.

A/n: yes I know this chapter lacks Draco and Hermione interaction, but I just thought you all would want some insight into the minds of both men in Hermione's life. And I had to tie up a few loose ends as well. It was rather difficult to write and it's not my personal favorite chapter, but it had to be written for the sake of the story.


	12. Let's Paint the Town Red

A/n: I know, I know…you hate me all because this might become an Oliver/Hermione story. For fear of losing all my Draco/Hermione readers, I give you this one clue: stay with me, you won't be disappointed I assure you. And I know that my story isn't very humorous, but I didn't know what else to put for the category. Oh yeah and I don't expect you all to feel sorry for Oliver, because I know I don't, I'm just trying to help you all understand where he's coming from. Oh and because last chapter had everything BUT Hermione and Draco interaction, this chapter is basically ALL Draco and Hermione. So enjoy.

**Chapter 12 Let's Paint the Town Red**

Blaise Zabini checked the hallway for any signs of movement before discretely opening the door to the Malfoy study and slipping inside. Once in, he cast a simple locking charm on the door and walked straight to the fireplace. He threw in some floo powder and whispered a name. The face of a man slightly older than himself appeared in the fireplace.

"Ah Mr. Zabini," said the man, "how can I help you today?"

"Yes Adriano," he addressed the man, "I would like to make reservations for two tonight."

Adriano looked down at what most likely was a reservations chart. He smiled and looked back up at Blaise. "That can be arranged. And at what time, Mr. Zabini?"

"At eight o'clock tonight"

Adriano looked back down at the reservations chart, searching for the spot marked '8:00.' Without even looking up from his chart, he asked "Under your name, Mr. Zabini?"

"No," Blaise replied, looking over his shoulder as a precaution. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy"

Adriano scribbled something in his chart and smiled back at Blaise. "An eight o'clock reservation for two under Draco Malfoy tonight, is that all?"

"Yes, Adriano," he responded, smirking. "That is all. Thank you."

"It is my pleasure, Mr. Zabini"

"Oh and don't tell Mr. Malfoy about this," Blaise winked at the other man before the head in the fireplace disappeared. He laughed slightly before casting an 'Alohomora' on the door and sliding out.

He walked back down the stairs and entered the dining area. Four sets of eyes looked in his direction as he sat back down at the table.

"So sorry," he smiled at them, "I got lost on the way to the loo"

Draco raised a pale eyebrow in confusion. "You've been here so-"

"So Mrs. Malfoy," Blaise easily cut in, "what's on the agenda today?" He took a bite of eggs and bacon as he turned to Hermione.

"Well," began Hermione, shifting her gaze from Blaise to Draco, "I was hoping to help a bit with the paperwork at Malfoy Industries, if that's ok with you." She turned her hopeful brown eyes to Draco who just lifted a questioning eyebrow. "The Manor does get awfully dull."

Draco forced a tight smile and grabbed Hermione's hand. He gave it a soft squeeze before replying. "Of course, love"

She smiled her thanks at him and continued on with her breakfast. About halfway through the meal, Hermione and Ana stood from the table and left for Ana's school. Hermione flooed back to Malfoy Manor twenty minutes later, Blaise, Draco, and Monsieur Deville already in Draco's study and waiting for her to floo to Malfoy Industries.

The three men settled into their normal routine, including Hermione in their day-to-day activities of course. The room was basked in silence as Hermione and Draco silently reviewed Malfoy Industries' paperwork. Every now and then Hermione would ask Draco business related questions or Draco would grab Hermione's papers, much to her chagrin, and silently scan it over before handing it back to her. Blaise and Monsieur Deville would carry casual conversation, but many times it would end in unwanted awkward silence.

Somewhere in between one of the silent pauses, Blaise and Monsieur Deville shared a look. Blaise quickly cast his eyes over at the working duo then back at Monsieur Deville. He smirked at the older man, making his objective known without the use of words. Monsieur Deville slowly nodded his head, a smile forming on his lips. Blaise winked at him before abruptly standing up, Monsieur Deville following him shortly.

"Well," started Blaise, gaining both Draco and Hermione's attentions, "I see you two are busy. Monsieur Deville and I will be out for the rest of the day, a bit of sight seeing if you will."

Blaise and Monsieur Deville quickly made their way to the door of the office with both Hermione and Draco looking on with raised eyebrows. Blaise turned around and winked at them before walking out of the office with Monsieur Deville. They shared a good laugh once outside the office doors.

"That was…" Draco trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. He turned his attention from the closed door to Hermione.

"Odd?" she offered, her eyebrows creasing in confusion as she turned to look at him as well. He nodded at her before shrugging his shoulders and going back to the paperwork in front of him. Hermione watched him for a bit before turning to her work as well.

They worked in silence, a work related question being asked here and there. Draco noticed that Hermione had a habit of allowing her thoughts to consume her. She'd stop reading or writing and would stare at some random spot on the paper. Her face held a far away look, her thoughts drifting to days of long past. Because she would unconsciously finger the ring on her right hand, Draco knew instantly that she was thinking of Oliver.

His face hardened and his grip on the quill strengthened, threatening to snap it in half. Oliver really didn't deserve Hermione. Even after all the heartbreak that Oliver had caused, and despite every nasty thing she said about him, for some strange and odd reason she still cared for him. And that not only confused Draco, but angered him as well.

"What were last week's earnings for the All Things Muggle in Hogsmeade?" Draco asked casually, not bothering to look up from his paper.

Hermione started when she heard his voice, breaking her thoughts of the past. She lightly shook her head and looked down at the paper.

"Well it was a Hogsmeade weekend for the Hogwarts students, so it's higher than normal," she stated. "About five hundred galleons, if my calculations are correct."

He nodded, still refusing to look up at her, and made a side note on his paper. Hermione returned to the paperwork in front of her and made sure to keep her thoughts in check.

Lunch came around quickly, with still no signs of Blaise or Monsieur Deville. They ate in semi silence, their small talk ending in awkwardness. Throughout lunch, Draco would notice that Hermione would finger Oliver's ring or twirl it around he finger. He wasn't sure if Hermione was aware of her habit or not.

Lunch came and went, with still no signs of Blaise or Monsieur Deville. Hermione left early to pick up Ana from school, leaving Draco alone with the work and his thoughts. Sometime after Hermione's departure, Blaise and Monsieur Deville returned, looking as if they knew something Draco didn't. Not putting much thought into it, Draco finished his work before flooing back to the manor with the other two men. He should've put more thought into the smirks and the twinkle in the other two men's eyes. It would have at least helped to ease the surprise that was yet to come.

They sat in the living room, all five of them: Draco, Hermione, Ana, Blaise, and Monsieur Deville. They made light conversation and watched Ana play with the wizard and muggle toys in the living room. Then Blaise asked _the _question.

"Why don't you two go out tonight?"

Both heads shot up, eyes wide as they stared at Blaise's smirking face. Their eyes yelled 'No!' but their expressions were a contradiction. For Monsieur Deville's sake, they made sure that both wore smiles, although a bit tight and forced, and only feared that if they were to go out that night, they'd be leaving their guest alone in the house.

"Blaise I don't think-" began Hermione, sending Blaise a very dark look.

"Come on, Madame Malfoy," interrupted Monsieur Deville with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. "I have been a guest in your lovely Manor for nearly two weeks, giving you two not a moment alone together."

"Really, that's quite alright," responded Hermione with a forced smile. It was more than all right; it made her job bloody easy. If the only time that her and Draco were ever alone was just before they'd drift into sleep, well it made pretending to be 'Mrs. Malfoy' a walk in the park, so to speak.

"Nonsense, I insist you two have a night to yourselves," Monsieur Deville softly clapped both of them on the back. "Why don't you two dine at Via Emilia, that nice Italian restaurant near Diagon Alley? Monsieur Zabini and I shall watch Ana and look over the Manor. Don't worry."

Blaise smirked at Monsieur Deville and sent him a discrete wink, a wink that he hoped wouldn't attract Draco or Hermione's attention. Draco noticed though and raised a suspicious eyebrow at Blaise. The dark haired man just shrugged, a smirk that just yelled 'I know something you don't know!' gracing his features, and turned back to Hermione and Monsieur Deville.

Conversation went on around him. Draco wasn't really quite listening to what they were saying; he was more focused on Blaise and Monsieur Deville's proposition. He did need some time away from the pseudo marriage()-it was starting to instill unwanted thoughts into his head. So technically it would be a date with Hermione, per se, but at least he didn't have to watch what he said or did around her. Before Draco knew what he was doing, he replied.

"Okay," Draco's smooth voice turned all heads towards him. Blaise and Monsieur Deville smiled brightly at him while Hermione's eyes widened in shock and confusion. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, smiling at her attempts to hold back her revulsion. "It'll be fun, love."

Well now, what was Hermione to do but agree? She couldn't very well turn down her own 'husband,' that would be too odd for Monsieur Deville. So with a begrudging smile, she nodded her agreement.

"Great," Blaise clapped his hands together. "You two get ready. We'll watch Ana from here on out."

"Again I ask you, Zabini," began Draco as Blaise pushed him towards the stairs, "you have your own family, why are you here?"

"And again I tell you, Malfoy, Monique is in Milan for a fashion show. She won't be back until tomorrow evening."

Blaise gave them both one last shove. "Now up!"

They both walked up to their bedrooms, Hermione heading to the room originally laid out for her. She walked slightly behind him, glaring at his back the entire way to their rooms. Now because of him, Hermione Granger was forced to go on a date with Draco Malfoy-now that's a sentence no one expected to ever hear. Yes, she too needed a break from this fake life but it really couldn't be considered a break if she was still spending it with Draco. And besides, Hermione had absolutely nothing to wear.

"I know you're glaring at me," he said to her without stopping or turning to face her.

"Well, I wonder why Malfoy?" she countered with a sneer.

"Just get ready Granger," he dismissed her before walking into his room and closing the door behind him.

Hermione glared at the closed door and spat insults at it, hoping that Draco would hear. He didn't. She turned quickly and walked to her room, slamming the door shut as she entered.

Draco finished showering and cleaning up in under half an hour. He dressed formally and all in black: black dress pants, a black long sleeved button up shirt with the top most buttons left unbuttoned-the collar of his white undershirt just barely visible, and black dress shoes. The black off set his pale complexion, gray eyes, and white-blonde hair beautifully. Instead of making him look pale and sickly, the black provided him with a faint glow. His platinum and diamond dragon shaped cuff links gleamed beautifully and stood out more against the black background.

Draco stood in front of his mirror and assessed himself. Everything was in place, not a single wrinkle or dust could be found on either his shirt or pants. He left his hair gel free, his choice of style nowadays, and tucked the bothersome strands behind his ears. With one final glance at the mirror, he grabbed his black blazer and his wand and left the solidarity of his room for the living room.

Hermione, on the other hand, just managed to get out of the shower just as Draco exited his room. With her hair wrapped in a towel and her body draped in her bathrobe, she searched through the closet for something to wear. She still had the robes that she had used for Monsieur Deville's welcome dinner and what she thought would be his departing dinner. But Hermione doubted that they'd be wearing robes that night. But what else did she have to wear? She never spent extravagantly on herself, she only bought clothes that she needed and ones that she would wear more than once. Hermione was a smart girl, she had a child to take care of and she knew money was hard to come by for them so she never spent what money they had on trivial things.

As if a light turned on her head, Hermione rustled through the closet until she found it. She took the dress out of the closet and smiled. At that moment, Hermione was thankful that Ginny insisted on getting her that red dress for her twenty-sixth birthday. It was still practically brand new, Hermione having only used it once. She remembered packing the dress along with her other clothes, thinking that she would need something formal. And thank Merlin she did too.

Hermione quickly slipped the dress on and looked at herself in the mirror. It was a beautiful bright red dress, a color Hermione rarely wore. It fit her figure perfectly; it hugged her body but allowed enough room for her to move. The asymmetrical cut of the dress started from just above her left knee to mid-shin of her right leg. Two thin straps held the dress up and provided a swoop neck to the dress. It showed enough to be considered sensual and sexy, but not enough to be thought inappropriate and risqué. The dress was a far shot from what Hermione usually wore, but she really didn't have any other choice. And besides, she did look stunning in it.

She sat down at the vanity, with her red dress and hair still wrapped in the towel, and applied a light amount of make-up. She applied eyeliner and mascara with a light dab of brown and gold eye shadow. Minimal blush was applied to her cheeks to bring out the natural rosy hue. An application of colored gloss on her lips and she was done.

Letting her hair out of the toweled confines, making sure that it neither wet her dress or her freshly applied make-up, Hermione grabbed her wand and dried it. Her hair was in its natural curls, the hairstyle she'd grown accustomed to. She squirted a bit of a no-frizz solution in her hands and ran it along the length of her hair, to keep her hair from resulting in its natural bushiness. Grabbing a nearby clip, Hermione styled her hair in a simple up do and clipped it together. She looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection.

After putting on the black heels that she wore almost every day to work, she grabbed her black coat and a purse big enough to fit her wand. With one last look at her reflection, Hermione left the room and made her way to the living room.

She stood at the entrance to the living room, looking at the scene in front of her. Draco and Monsieur Deville were discussing something while Blaise and Ana sat on the floor, playing with a few toys. Hermione smiled at that; Blaise would make a wonderful father when the time comes.

She walked into the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Four pairs of eyes looked up at her, three smiles and one smirk present on their faces. They stood to greet her as she made her way to the couches.

"You're beautiful, mummy," Ana said with a large grin, running up to Hermione. She smiled at her daughter and blushed slightly. She held her daughter's hand as they walked to the other three men.

She smiled at Blaise and Monsieur Deville's compliments and turned her gaze to Draco. He stood slightly behind the other two men and silently assessed Hermione, a smirk playing on his lips and his arms folded across his chest. He lifted an eyebrow as their eyes met, his smirk only growing deeper. Hermione rolled her eyes and bit her lip to hold back the smile.

Blaise checked his watch-fifteen minutes until eight. They had to be going now unless they wanted to miss their reservation.

"Well, we don't want to hold you back now," began Blaise, lightly grabbing both Draco and Hermione's arm and pulling them towards the stairs. "You two have fun now."

Draco wrenched his arm out of Blaise's grasp and straightened the cuffs of his shirt. "We're not flooing. I am not about to sully my clothes," he said with his natural arrogance. "We'll apparate."

Blaise and Hermione shared a look, both knowing that it was impossible for anyone not of Malfoy descent to apparate in or out of Malfoy Manor.

"Draco, darling-" began Hermione.

"Come here," he interrupted, holding out a hand to her. She looked at him quizzically, but he just sighed and repeated what he said. "Come here, love."

She slowly took his hand, ignoring the way it just fit, and walked closer to him.

"We'll apparate," he repeated again, letting go of her hand and draping an arm around her waist.

"Wait," replied Hermione as she gently pushed away from him and turned to her daughter.

She bent down to be eye level with Ana and smiled at her daughter. It took a minute, but Ana shot her a tentative smile back. She threw her arms around her mother's neck and hugged her tightly. She didn't want her mum to leave, but she knew that she couldn't really say anything against it. Hermione laughed slightly and rubbed her daughter's back.

"You be a good girl for Blaise and Monsieur Deville, alright sweetie?" Ana nodded against Hermione's neck.

She let go of her daughter and stood to her full height. Draco came around her and hugged Ana as well, just for show of course.

Draco held Hermione lightly by the waist and brought her in closer to him. He ignored the fruity scent of her hair and the feel of her in his arms and apparated out of the Manor and into the Italian restaurant Via Emilia.

It was a quaint little wizard's restaurant, located just a few streets down Diagon Alley. The restaurant was small, but it was largely known. Known as one of the best Italian eateries in Wizarding England, reservations at Via Emilia were very hard to come by and only the very rich or very famous usually dined there. So it didn't shock Hermione that Draco would be well accepted in the restaurant, seeing as he was both rich and famous.

"Good evening Mr. Malfoy," replied a tall, thin man behind a counter. "You're a bit early for your eight o'clock reservation but not to worry."

"Adriano I didn't-" Draco tried to argue, before being cut off by the host.

"Shall I take your coats?" he interrupted, holding out his arm for both their coats.

Hermione removed her coat and handed it to the man as she scanned the restaurant. She's heard numerous stories of the little restaurant, but not once has she stepped foot in there. And you'd think that helping rid the Wizarding world of Voldemort, being one of Harry Potter's best friends, and briefly dating Quidditch star Oliver Wood would make her famous enough.

"Your table awaits," said Adriano as he came back from putting away the coats. He turned and walked towards the table, signaling both to follow him.

They were led to a table near the back of the restaurant, surrounded by candles and flowers hanging off a vine. It could have been very romantic, if not for the two who were actually dining there.

They both sat down and menus were placed in front of them. As soon as Adriano left, both Hermione and Draco looked up at each other and said "Blaise."

"I should have known," said Draco with a shake of his head. "Slimy git always does this."

"Well _you_ agreed to it," she responded.

"Momentary lapse of judgment, I assure you," he explained with a smirk.

They fell into silence as they scanned their menu. Breadsticks were placed in front of them and water was poured into their glasses. As soon as the waiter arrived, they ordered their food. What was surprising to Hermione was the fact that _she_ actually ordered for herself. Because of Draco's controlling personality, she believed him to be the type of guy to order for their "dates." Interesting.

"So why aren't you married Malfoy?" she asked as she noticed the couples around them. It was sickening really.

"Conversation, Granger?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Just trying to past time before the food"

He was silent for a moment before he responded. "I'm not interested in settling down now. I'm young; starting a family is the last thing on my mind."

"That's reasonable," she replied, taking a bite out of a breadstick.

"And we all know why you're not married Granger," he smirked at her glare. She told him all that in confidence hoping that he wouldn't use the information against her. Well, that was probably too much to hope for.

"Yes and its glaringly obvious why no female would willingly settle down with the likes of you," she spat out, her annoyance with him clear in her words and glare.

"Is it now?" he asked, a breadstick twirled around his fingers. "I would have thought the opposite. I'm young, handsome, rich; what female wouldn't want me?"

"You're so full of yourself Malfoy," she rolled her eyes and sipped her water.

"Yes, well, it's a gift"

They were both silent once again. Once in a while the sound of crunching breadstick or water being sipped would break the otherwise silent table.

"I've been wondering," began Hermione, breaking the silence at the table. "Why are you the only one able to apparate in and out of Malfoy Manor?"

"Any Malfoy, by law or blood, can apparate into the Manor," he answered. "And those I give direct consent as well, seeing as I am now the head of the Malfoy family."

"So what non-Malfoy has your consent?"

"The Minister or Magic," he sneered, "to make sure that next time a new evil rises, the Malfoys won't blindly follow."

"It's basic Ministry practice," Hermione tried explaining, "they have to be able to apparate or floo into any house or establishment."

"Say what you want," he said, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "It's to keep us Malfoys in check."

Silence.

"So why can't Blaise apparate?" she questioned. "He is your best friend."

"What's with the twenty questions Granger?" He lifted an eyebrow, bringing his water glass to his lips and taking a drink.

She shrugged. "Just curious"

He looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered. "Safety precaution"

She lifted an eyebrow as she looked at him. "Sounds more like trust issues to me, Malfoy"

He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, what do you know?" His sudden mood shift was due in part to the realization that Hermione was right, as always. Blaise was his best friend, true, but Draco still didn't trust the man with much more beyond business. If Draco allowed Blaise open access to Malfoy Manor, then that would be one less barrier separating Draco from another person. And that jus couldn't be done. So maybe he did have trust issues, but Hermione didn't have to know that.

Thankfully, the food arrived at that moment. They ate in complete silence, the tension and awkwardness still very thick between them. Hermione unknowingly touched upon one of Draco's personal fears. Emotional unattachment, another barrier Draco built to protect himself. If Hermione figured out that what she said was the truth, then he wouldn't even have that to separate them, because once a person's fears and innermost workings were revealed, an attachment is bound to form.

Maybe Draco did have a few problems with trust, but with Lucius Malfoy as a father, who wouldn't? With Lucius constantly supporting the "Trust No One" campaign, it's a surprise that Draco hadn't secluded himself completely from the outside world.

Their food was consumed and the empty plates, taken away from the table. They looked at each other in silence before the waiter came back.

"Can I offer you two some dessert?"

"No we're fine," answered Hermione. Draco sent her a look, clearly stating that he did want dessert. "There's this ice cream shop around here that serves the best sundaes."

He nodded once as he was presented with the bill. He paid their check and stood to exit the small restaurant. They walked to the front in silence, Adriano already prepared with their coats in hand.

Draco unconsciously watched as Hermione slipped on her coat. The first time he saw her that night, he was impressed-she cleaned up nicely. But now, Draco was stunned. Never one for the color red, since it brought with it many unwanted Hogwarts memories, he now had a new liking to the color. He remembered Hermione wearing burgundy robes when Monsieur Deville first arrived and concluded, after tonight, that red definitely was her color.

She turned to him, after securing her coat, and was surprised to find him staring at her with a blank expression. His eyes slowly traveled to her face, where she was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're…" she smirked, awaiting the compliment, "…female."

She stared at him as if he were mad, he very well might be, and snorted. That was the most absurd thing anyone has ever said to her. And coming from Draco Malfoy, that just made it weirder. A smile formed on her lips as a laugh escaped her mouth. She laughed to herself in the restaurant while Draco glared at her, pink tinting his cheeks.

"Thank you for the observation, Malfoy," she said in between laughter as Draco slid his blazer on, grumbling at her the whole time. "I was born female and have been for the past twenty six years."

"Yes but you look female," he tried as they stepped out into the December chill. Instinctively, both wrapped their jackets tighter around their bodies, despite the warming charm placed on their coats.

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Take it as you'd like," he responded, sending her a sideways glance, "I'm just saying that you look like a girl"

"And what did I look like before?" she questioned him, her anger slowly starting to rise in her. The more he talked, the more it sounded like an insult. So maybe she wasn't the prettiest or maybe she didn't wear the best clothes, but that didn't mean Draco had the right to criticize her look or fashion choice.

"Now don't go getting your knickers in a twist," he told her, trying to squelch the fight that was sure to come. "Back at Hogwarts you were just Potter's sidekick"

"If you want to stop this fight before it begins, I suggest you take a different approach," she answered him with a hard glare. "Preferably one where you keep your mouth shut"

They walked in silence as the cold December air blew around them. They walked to the end of the block and took a right around the corner. They continued on, silence thick and heavy in the air.

"Just for curiosity's sake," began Hermione, "when did u see me as 'female'?" She smirked and rolled her eyes, but kept her gaze forward, away from him.

"A little over a week ago," he replied instantly, "when Monsieur Deville first arrived."

She smiled, remembering the burgundy robes and the look on both Draco and Blaise's face. She turned to him and assessed his look for the evening as well. Although the night was dark, Draco seemed to have a glow about him. It might have been because of his pale complexion and his uniquely platinum blond hair, or it might've been something different all together. The black really suited him nicely, Hermione conceded.

"Yes well, you're very male," she responded, taking the same approach as Draco.

Draco smirked widely. He didn't know if Hermione was aware of the sexual innuendo, but either way he would enjoy taunting her about it.

"I get that a lot from women actually," he turned to her and shot her a wicked smirk before blushing.

She stopped walking completely, her eyes wide and her cheeks tinting in embarrassment. Well, now they were trading sexual banter. Great.

"First of all, I didn't mean in like that," she said with a huff, fighting down the obvious blush. "And second, I did not need to know that"

She jogged to catch up with him, scowling and glaring at his blonde head. He smirked and shook his head. Considering that she had a child and therefore knew firsthand of what exactly he was talking of, Hermione was quite prudish.

They continued on to the small ice cream shop, Hermione with her arms wrapped tightly around her body for warmth and Draco with his hands shoved into his pants pocket. They walked in step with each other, with a small distance separating them. Hermione crossed the next street, with Draco following behind, and took a right down another street. To Draco, it seemed as if they've been walking for ages. Why didn't they apparate again? Just when he was about to question Hermione on the location of the shop, she stopped in front of a small store and smiled.

"We're here," she said simply, before opening the door and walking into the ice cream shop. The shop was pretty much empty, besides the people working behind the counter and a male and female couple sitting near the back, spoon-feeding ice cream to each other. It was rather disturbing.

They took seats at the counter and immediately a warm and smiling middle-aged woman took their orders. She left Draco and Hermione as soon as they told her what they wanted.

Draco looked around the small shop. It was quaint and had a very muggle atmosphere to it. It was nothing like Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, which felt very magical from the store itself right down to their ice cream. This ice cream parlor however gave off some other type of magic.

"How'd you find this place?" he asked Hermione.

She looked up at him before answering. "Ana and I come here all the time, our flat is just around the corner. Oh and of course Oliver and I…" she trailed off and cleared her throat, unable to speak anymore of her past love. Her and Oliver frequented the ice cream parlor many times during their relationship, and it should have caused Hermione much pain just to step foot into it if not for the wonderful moments she shared with her daughter in the very shop.

Draco looked away from her, feeling both angry and irritated. He was reminded of his confrontation with Oliver and the anger he held for the man. He had put Hermione through so much unnecessary pain, and the git hadn't left it at that either. There were so many little things that had Oliver's memory attached to it: the ring Hermione never took off, the little ice cream shop they were sitting in, and even Ana. In Draco's defense, his reason for being angry and for hating the Quidditch player was plausible, but for the life of him he couldn't quite place why he was so irritated.

"There we go dearies," the middle aged woman appeared in front of them, a smile on her face and two 'Beasley's Famous Ice Cream Sundae' in both hands. She placed it in front of each of them and handed them both spoons and napkins. She smiled once again before leaving them alone.

They both dug into their sundaes in silence, enjoying the coolness of it despite the cold just outside. Draco hated to admit it, but it actually was quite good. To think something muggle could be so good. 'Beasley's Famous Ice Cream Sundae' gave the sundaes at Florean Fortecsue's a run for its money.

"Why do you hate me Malfoy?" Hermione asked quietly while shoving a spoonful of ice cream and whipped cream into her mouth. She was fighting down the inevitable blush and refused to look him in the eyes. This was a question that she had battled with since back at Hogwarts and she hadn't felt acquainted enough with Draco to ask, until that moment at least.

That one question froze Draco mid-movement. His spoon, ladled with ice cream and hot fudge, hung half way between his mouth and the sundae glass. _Why do you hate me Malfoy?_ swirled through his mind as he slowly lowered his spoon. How was he supposed to answer that?

"I hated Potter, and therefore you as well because you're his friend," he told her. "I hated you through association."

Hermione rolled her eyes, getting over her initial embarrassment. "Be serious Malfoy"

Draco let out a soft sigh, so soft that even Hermione who was sitting right beside him failed to pick up. He rested his elbows on the counter top and absentmindedly swirled the sundae with his spoon. He'd have to tell her more about himself now; that just didn't bode well for someone who had as much trust issues as he did.

"Because you're Muggle-born. Because you're Harry Sodding Potter's best friend. Because all the professors loved you. Because you, Wonder Boy, and the Weasel practically got away with bloody murder. Because you bested me in every class," he continued stirring his sundae, refusing to meet her eyes. "Pick a reason Granger"

She stared at him, torn between feeling sorry for the guy and angry that he'd hate her for things that she couldn't help. She chose anger. "Those are such idiotic reasons to hate a person, Malfoy," she hissed at him, her eyes narrowing.

"My father constantly compared me to a _Mudblood_," he told her, his gray eyes darkening with barely contained anger.

She narrowed her eyes at him, wanting so bad to slap him or hex him or anything. She decided not to, not wanting to cause a scene in the small ice cream shop. Instead, she quickly turned back to her sundae and ate in silence.

He let out an exasperated sigh and growled low in his throat. He ran his hands through his fine blonde hair before picking up his spoon and shoving ice cream in his mouth. It was silent as they both finished their sundaes.

"I hated what you represented," he finally told her, gaze set in front of him. "All my life I was taught that muggle-borns and half bloods were beneath me, intellectually and what not. And I believed that, but then you, Hermione 'Muggle-born' Granger proved all that wrong. You're a Mudblood, yet you managed to stay at the top of our class every damn year. You managed to escape death by Voldemort even when you were one of his main targets." He sighed and turned to her. She still refused to look at him. "You're a Mudblood, but you were better than me"

"I hated how my father"-he sneered at the name-"would always compare me to you. I hated you because you were the reason Lucius was never proud of me. 'That Mudblood beat you again, Draco? Not good. Malfoys are never second best Draco.' No matter what I was never good enough for the bastard, and I never would be because you'd always be there to beat me.

"But then fifth year came, and after Lucius was thrown into Azkaban, I didn't give a rat's ass about what he thought. Besides, everything he told me was a complete farce anyway."

"Then why'd you still hate me?" Hermione asked in a soft voice. She still kept her gaze forward, afraid to see his reaction.

"I still had to keep up with my reputation, didn't I?" he asked with a smirk. "It wouldn't do well to suddenly be best friends with the Golden Trio. Besides, I still didn't particularly like you lot."

She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You were still nasty to us after we sent your father to jail. We always thought you hated us for it."

"Oh I did, for a while," he responded. "Then I realized that that bastard got what was coming to him. Imagine, shaming the Malfoy name," he shook his head. "Now _that_ is something a Malfoy would never do."

She smirked and snorted at his comment. "Well in my defense," she started, finally turning in her chair to look at him, "my hatred for you was well founded. You were especially awful to me back at Hogwarts."

He smirked. "Those were the days"

The sundae cups and spoons were taken away from them and replaced with the bill. Remembering that they were in muggle London now, Hermione offered to pay. They righted their coats and stepped back out onto the streets.

"And in my defense," Draco picked up where they left off as the rounded a corner, "all my badgering was well founded as well. You lot were damn near unbearable. Annoying, really. Someone had to put you all in place"

"And you decided it best that that person be you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Naturally"

They walked more until they came to an alley. Draco looked around him; it was quite late for a weekday and the streets were in most part empty, save a few people here and there. They had a choice of walking to Hermione's flat to floo back to Malfoy Manor, or they could walk into the alley, away from prying eyes, and apparate. Draco decided the latter to be the better; whatever got him away from the cold air of the street.

"We'll apparate," he stated, casually walking into the alley. Hermione followed behind him.

He lightly took her hand and drew her to him. Releasing her hand, he slipped his arm around her waist as he drew his wand out of his coat pocket. Hermione ignored her heart's rapid beating as she firmly grabbed his arm. With a wave of his wand, Draco and Hermione arrived back in the Malfoy study with a pop.

Untangling themselves from each other was a bit of an awkward situation for the both of them, though Hermione's embarrassment was more obvious than Draco's. With a soft pink tint to her cheeks, Hermione righted her coat and dress and refused to meet Draco's eyes. Draco, on the other hand, remained cool as he removed his blazer and draped it over an arm.

"I'll check on Ana before heading off to bed," she told him, her gaze focused everywhere but him. He quietly nodded as she walked out of the room and made her way into Ana's. Moments later she rushed out, eyes wide with concern.

She turned to Draco, all her embarrassment forgotten, and said "She's not in there"

Draco just blinked. "If she's anything like you," he began, not even bothering to move from his spot against the doorframe, "she probably fell asleep in the library."

Too concerned with her daughter's well being, Hermione didn't even notice the light mockery. She numbly nodded her head, walking to the door of the Malfoy library. Draco made his way to her side.

And there, on one of the overstuffed chairs, lay the sleeping form of little Ana Granger, her head resting on one armrest and her little feet dangling off the other, a soft red blanket wrapped around her. Empty cups of hot chocolate lay strewn across the table along with various muggle and wizard children books. On the larger sofa, Monsieur Deville lay sleeping, a book resting on his slightly large belly.

Hermione smiled at the sight. She walked over to her daughter and crouched down beside the chair. She turned her head to Draco, who stood watching by the door.

"Take care of Monsieur Deville while I bring Ana to her room," she softly ordered, turning back to her daughter. Brushing a blonde curl behind her ear, Hermione smiled at the sleeping figure of her daughter. She easily lifted her daughter out of the chair and carried her out of the library, leaving Draco to get Monsieur Deville back to his room any way necessary.

Hermione tucked her daughter into bed, planting a kiss on her forehead and wrapping the pink blankets tightly around her. She closed the doors softly behind her as she made her way to her shared room. Draco was already there, sitting on the bed and removing his shoes.

They took turns in the bathroom, changing out of their clothes and getting ready for bed. Hermione set up the couch while Draco readied the large bed. It was his turn that night. They continued on in silence, neither really knowing what was appropriate to say. Where did they stand now? As each day passed, and as secrets were revealed, it was getting harder to call each other an 'enemy.'

And just as the silence in the dark room was becoming unbearable, Hermione spoke. "Do you hate me Malfoy?" The question had floated around her head for days since the day they met again. It had lain dormant at first, but now, it made its presence known inside her head, filling every empty space possible. Merlin help her, she cared; Hermione Granger cared how Draco Malfoy felt about her.

It was silent; she hoped that Draco had fallen asleep. With a heavy sigh, Hermione knew that he was still awake.

Pause.

"No," came his soft reply.

And for the life of her, she didn't know why that mattered, why that meant so much. With a small smile, Hermione fell asleep.

**A/n**: while writing this chapter, I discovered how difficult Draco is to write. I don't understand him. I love writing Blaise, because so little is known about him I can easily create a personality for him. If my Draco seems OOC please tell me. And I don't know why, but I don't really like this chapter.


	13. The Turning Point

A/n: Oh wow I am **TERRIBLY** sorry for the long, LONG wait. How long has it been? Seven months? I am incredibly sorry, please forgive me. I've been going through a lot since then and, sad to say, I have been losing interest in this whole fan fiction thing; there are seriously NO MORE good stories out there. But I promise all you, I WILL finish this story…even if it kills me. Once again, I am so sorry. And thank you to all the readers who stuck with this story from beginning to end and those that reviewed, thank you very much. It was because of your reviews that made me get off my lazy ass and actually update.

Ok this is the point in my story where it starts to pick up with the relationship thing. There are only two more chapters after this one and an epilogue. In my opinion, it gets a whole lot more fun and interesting starting from this point on. And Hermione's decision won't be revealed until the last chapter.

**Chapter 13 The Turning Point**

Awkward, the word to best describe the situation between Draco and Hermione. They spent most of the day apart, thanks to Ana's winter vacation away from school. They were spared Blaise's tries at Cupid, thank you Mrs. Zabini. Monsieur Deville noticed a slight change in their relationship, but thought it off as just a good night together for a married couple. It was nearly Christmas, which meant that this whole nightmare would be over soon. And yet, it just didn't seem right. Something felt incomplete.

The times that they did spend together though were overly polite and a bit forced. They spent one awkward moment completely alone, without either Monsieur Deville or Ana, and it was filled with so many unasked questions and unwanted emotions floating between them that Draco left the room and only returned once he was positive that they wouldn't be alone. Their tentative relationship had altered immensely, but whether it was for better or worse, neither knew. Hermione knew Draco a little better, but what good was the knowledge if he'd never allow her to get a word out edgewise?

Because of the start of Ana's winter vacation, Hermione passed her day at Malfoy Manor, spending quality time with her daughter. She allowed herself to forget everything that had happened between herself and Draco and turned her entire focus to her daughter. They enjoyed a nice quiet day of reading and talking, something they hadn't been able to enjoy together for some time. For Hermione, her day, as of yet, was calm, relaxing, and most importantly Draco free.

Draco, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Like every other day, Monsieur Deville accompanied Draco to work. But with the absence of Blaise Zabini, it was a much more sedated environment for the older man. In other words, he was bored stiff. They talked of the business deal mostly, seeing as Christmas was only a mere two days away. Loose ends were tied and last minute changes were made. The final papers still were not signed, much to the annoyance of Draco, but Monsieur Deville had given his official confirmation of the deal.

They day was going great for Draco as well, his mind kept free from Hermione, until lunch time came.

Draco and Monsieur Deville walked into the Malfoy Industries bistro, taking a seat at Draco's regular table. Water and complimentary bread were set out before them. They were about to place down their orders when a different waiter approached their table and delivered a message to Draco.

"A Mr. Oliver Wood would like to speak with you sir," he told him.

Draco looked up at the waiter then to Monsieur Deville. The elder man nodded once. With an "excuse me", Draco stood from the table and followed the waiter to the back of the bistro.

Oliver sat at one of the tables, looking more haggard and tired than Draco remembered him looking. The Quidditch player looked up as soon as he heard footsteps and locked eyes with the blonde. Draco walked slowly up to Oliver's table and took a seat across from him. Without a word, the waiter disappeared as soon as Draco sat down.

They sat in silence, glasses of water set in front of both men. Oliver would alternate looking at Draco and then looking back down at either his clasped hands or the water glass in front of him. Draco kept his eyes locked on the other man.

A sigh. Then finally, Oliver broke the silence.

"Please just let me see them"

"You promised you wouldn't until after Christmas," Draco told him coldly. "For once Wood, keep your promise"

Oliver winced slightly from the insult but didn't say another word. He looked worn and beat; overall he looked broken. And he really was. To have heaven dangled so close to you and then to have it abruptly strung back as soon as you reach for it, it would do something to just about anyone's psyche. It was much easier to deal with the problem in America, where he had no reminders of Hermione or the life he could have had, had he chosen the other path. But now back in England, with Ana and Hermione just a short apparation or floo away, it was driving Oliver completely bonkers.

If the circumstances were different, Draco might've felt sorry for the man. He looked like a wreck, so different from his usual poster pin up appearance. _Serves him right_ thought Draco as he narrowed his eyes further and glared harder at Oliver.

"Please," Oliver tried again.

"After Christmas," stated Draco harshly. "The business deal-"

Oliver snorted, interrupting Draco's sentence. He shook his head before looking up and straight into Draco's piercing gray eyes.

"Is that all you care about?" questioned Oliver. "The bloody business deal? Malfoy this is so much more than just 'the business deal.' This whole situation affects everyone involved beyond just business. And as much as I know you'd like to deny it, this greatly affects your life too."

Draco stayed silent, gray eyes boring holes into the Quidditch star's bright blue ones. He realized then that Oliver was absolutely, completely, no doubt about it…right. Having Hermione and Ana live with him for the past two weeks or so had one hell of an impact on his life, a fact that he was now just starting to grasp and comprehend. But what was he to say to the former love of his former enemy? The truth?

With his eyes narrowed, Draco looked away from Oliver and took a sip of his water. A tiny smirk was present on Oliver's face. Smug bastard.

It was silent once again in the tiny backroom of the bistro. Both men were silent, having clearly stated their intent and purpose to one another. Oliver sat with his back resting against his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, and a solid look of perseverance on his face, otherwise known as his "game face." Draco had a similar stance, although the expression on his face was much harsher and icier than Oliver's. With one last sip of his water, Draco spoke.

"After Christmas." And with the air of a true Malfoy, Draco stood from the table and departed from the tiny room without so much as a "goodbye" or a glance back.

Oliver glared hard at the other man's retreating back, his fists clenching and unclenching with the force of all his pent up frustrations. Thoughts of defying Draco's orders and visiting Hermione and Ana anyway ran through Oliver's mind. _That'll teach him_, he thought, _that'll teach him to treat me with such disrespect_. But a much stronger, more important thought encompassed that thought: this whole situation does affect everyone, Hermione and Ana included. And he _did _promise that he wouldn't attempt to seek them out until after Christmas, although that promise was to a self-centered, dirty little rat by the name of Draco Malfoy.

Oliver took a large sip of his water and with his thoughts still occupied of the encounter, he apparated back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Thanks to Oliver Wood, Draco thought of Hermione the _entire _day, in one way or another. He hated her passionately one moment, his mind drifting back to his Hogwarts days, but then he would get odd thoughts of serenity the other, as he thought of their "date" the night before. He hated how she unconsciously brought more problems upon him, by leaving unfinished business with Oliver. Soon after, though, Draco would be so caught up in a raging jealousy that he was forced to quickly change his thoughts so as not to think more of his conflicting feelings. He would then get flashbacks of how he believed that one awful day in Hermione's past, the day in which she found that unfortunate letter from Oliver, played out. His seemingly cold and nonexistent heart clenched when he pictured Hermione, strong and brave Hermione Granger, breaking down into tears. Draco would clear these thoughts from his mind as well, as it brought unknown and new feelings to him. As they day progressed, he decided to engulf himself completely in his work and in what he and Monsieur Deville were discussing. It worked, sometimes.

They sat in the library later that night, the three of them: Draco in an armchair and Hermione and Monsieur Deville sharing a couch. They were talking of nothing of great importance, mostly plans of Christmas Eve and Christmas. The conversation shifted to business, which inevitably led to the current business deal.

"Monsieur Deville," started Draco, "are there any unsettled areas that we should discuss before I turn Ready for Wear over to you"

Monsieur Deville looked pensive, then with a shake of his head he responded. "We have discussed everything. Don't worry Monsieur Malfoy, Ready for Wear will be in good hands."

Hermione listened to the conversation carefully, her future resting on the line. Her eyes widened slightly at the comment; well this was new. And all this time she just thought that Gladrags and Ready for Wear were merging.

"Gladrags is buying out Ready for Wear?" she asked. Both men nodded.

"Why?" she asked, slowly growing incensed. "Granted, the Malfoy clothing company isn't booming quite as well as Gladrags, but it's no where near bankrupt!"

"Hermione, love-"

"I was under the impression that this was just a merger," she interrupted him, looking straight into Draco's eyes. She was incredibly angry, her and many other Malfoy Industries employees faced the risk of losing their job in the coming year.

"We're selling to Gladrags once all the paper are signed," he told her. Monsieur Deville was smart enough not to interrupt them.

"So what happens to Ready for Wear? What happens to all its employees?"

"All production of Ready for Wear clothing will be moved to France and the stores will close for some time to adjust to the new changes." He knew this subject was very important for her, seeing as she was currently employed at one of these stores. That was one of the reasons why he purposely left out the exact deal between Gladrags and Malfoy Industries.

"Are those currently working there guaranteed a job after all the changes?"

"I don't know," Draco said, growing exasperated. "It's out of my hands after everything is signed."

They both turned to Monsieur Deville, looks of strained patience on both their faces. He smiled, attempting to lighten the mood, then frowned as neither Draco nor Hermione seemed to care.

"I am not entirely sure," admitted Monsieur Deville, "we might hire new employees or keep the old ones, it's still unsettled as of this moment."

Hermione stood up abruptly and began pacing, mumbling incoherently of the thousands of witches and wizards who relied on Ready for Wear to pay their bills. Luckily, she thought, she had enough money from the false marriage to hold Ana and herself over for some time, but how long would it last a single mother and her child? And the other employees weren't as fortunate as her. She was angry at Draco for selling to Gladrags, at Monsieur Deville for accepting the offer, and herself especially for unknowingly helping to create a bigger increase in unemployment.

"Excuse us," Draco cut in, grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her out of the room. Through all her ranting, Hermione hadn't noticed Draco standing from his chair and walking over to her.

Monsieur Deville nodded and looked on with wide, confused eyes.

The door closed behind them. Hermione tore her arm out of Draco's grasp and glared viciously at him.

"How could you?" she hissed out.

He rolled his eyes. "This is my company. I can do whatever the hell I want with it."

"Did you ever think of the thousands of employees that work for Ready for Wear?" she asked. "All those who rely on their job just to make ends meet?"

"This will benefit Malfoy Industries-"

"-at the expense of thousands of witches and wizards," she cut in. "I can't believe you Malfoy."

"Once again this is _my_ company," he reminded her, stressing the word 'my'. "Life is not all great and dandy, Granger. It goes through changes, it takes you through momentary highs, and yes it might just shit on you. But you know what? It. Goes. On. People are fired everyday. I can't stop the increasing unemployment rate."

"Yeah, but you could've prevented it _from_ increasing." She turned around and stormed off to her room, too angry at Draco to sleep in the same room as him.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, her eyes closed and her fingers rubbing her temples. This new information was very distressing and troublesome. It would be one hell of a surprise for all those working at Ready for Wear to learn that the company was closing for some time and that their jobs were about as guaranteed as Voldemort being risen from the dead. In other words, they had a next to nothing chance of being offered their same job once the company underwent all its changes. Great.

She sat on the bed, her head in her hands, for a few more minutes. A thought flashed through her mind. It was a brilliant idea that would somewhat ease the coming blow for the employees, but it would make Draco incredibly angry. Perfect. She checked the time. 9:45. It was a bit late, but if she started now and worked it just right, everything would fall into place by tomorrow afternoon.

Jumping off the bed, she arranged her plans for the coming day.

The day dawned bright and early. The sun provided a touch of heat, despite the nipping December air. Happiness was felt throughout all of England, anticipation for Christmas, which was just one day away, filled people with giddiness and delight. Overall, it was a perfect start to a seemingly perfect Christmas Eve day.

Hermione was up and running long before the sun decided to rise. There were arrangements to be finalized, last minute preparations to be made, and a list of other things to be done. It was a miracle that she was able to organize and actually come through with everything in just one night. It took a lot of work, and required minimal sleep, but it was worth it, to her anyway.

Hermione silently slipped out of Draco's study, where one of the only two fireplaces with a working floo network in the house resided, and made her way back to her room. She ran a mental checklist in her head, all the while smiling and silently congratulating herself on a job well done. The door to Draco's room opened, allowing one already clean and dressed Draco to walk out. Hermione stopped in from of him, brown eyes never leaving gray. They stood there in silence, the school days' cold animosity once again running between them. Hermione narrowed her eyes further, growled just slightly, and stalked off, towards her room. Draco walked off, not even bothering to turn back and watch her retreating back enter the confines of her room.

"Family" breakfast was skipped that morning, both Hermione and Draco opting to eat separately. Monsieur Deville decided to stay at the Manor that morning, watching little Ana while Draco went off to work, as per usual. Hermione, on the other hand, had not been seen since her and Draco's confrontation in the hall.

Draco entered the lobby of Malfoy Industries, expecting the usual drone of wizards and witches apparating in and out of the building. What he came face to face with, though, was something completely different, something that made him stop dead in his tracks. There were wizards and witches all right, but they weren't solely in the lobby for apparating purposes nor were they as dreary as they should have been. It looked like a party, complete with refreshments and everything. A sea of faces, some he recognized and others that were completely foreign to him, turned to him as soon as he stepped into the doors. A chorus of "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy" and pats on the back were dispensed as he made his way through the crowd. In the center of everything stood Hermione Granger, a glass of pumpkin juice in one hand and a large grin on her face as she spoke with a lady Draco had never seen before.

"Who would've thought that that bloke would be this generous?" the lady said to Hermione. Hermione just smiled and nodded her head in agreement.

"Yes, Julie, that man is full of surprises," she responded to Julie, her coworker at Ready for Wear.

Julie opened her mouth to speak but stopped as she caught sight of Draco approaching them from behind Hermione. "Speak of the devil," she said instead, a smirk on her mouth as she tilted her head in his direction.

Hermione turned and prepared herself for the coming battle. With a sickeningly sweet fake smile, she said, "Mr. Malfoy, on behalf of all your workers here, I would like to thank you for your generosity."

He sneered at her and narrowed his eyes, his anger and somewhat bewilderment clearly evident in his body language. He took hold of her arm, firmly yet gently as well, and responded.

"We have to talk," he said through clenched teeth as he began pulling her to the direction of his office.

"Malfoy I'm busy," she replied with more hostility, turning back to Julie and trying to wrench her arm out of his grasp. Julie just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, the idea of a lover's spat clearly present in her questioning eyes, and waved Hermione off.

"Don't worry about it love," she said. She looked at Draco and smiled. "I'll still be here when you two are finished. Take your time." She turned then and walked off, without so much as a backward glance at her friend.

"My office. Now," Draco instructed, pulling her behind him.

She tore free of his hold and said, in a dangerous quite whisper, "I am not one of your house elves, Malfoy, nor am I a hired hand. I do not come whenever you call."

He stood his ground and glared at her, trying desperately to suppress his growing anger. Hermione's stance was similar, a feeling of annoyance and rage radiating from her body. She was the first to break the stare, walking past him and towards his office. He followed, and caught the door just before it smacked him in the face. She didn't even have the decency to hold the door open for him. What nerve.

"What," he started, closing the door behind him, "did you do?"

"I gave your workers a Christmas gift," she said, "something, it seems, you have failed to do each and every year."

"You have no right," he roared, indignation filling him. Not only was he outraged at the fact that she did something without informing him first, he was also clearly irate that she questioned his authority.

"You're about a centimeter close to signing Ready for Wear over to Gladrags, which in turn means that the hundreds of Ready for Wear employees, myself included, will be jobless, right around Christmas time, and _I_ have no right? _I_ have no right, Malfoy?" she replied, mocking him. "In about a month's time, all the people that you see out there will have one thing in common: you will have fired them. What's so wrong about giving them some holiday cheer in the form of a party honoring _them_ and a Christmas bonus to ease the upcoming hardships?"

"You gave them all Christmas bonuses as well?" he responded, his selective hearing only picking out the words 'Christmas bonus.' "Bloody hell Granger, why don't you buy them all new houses while you're at it?" He ran his fingers through his hair, his irritation coming out. He walked over to his desk and sat atop it, all the while rubbing his temples.

"You act as if you can't afford it. You are one of the richest, if not _the_ richest, man in wizarding England," she replied, her voice growing louder with every word. "Have you no heart, Draco Malfoy?"

Silence. A sigh escaped Hermione's lips as she turned her attention away from Draco. Lack of sleep plus the added weight of an argument with Draco was not helping her disposition one bit; she was tired, angry, annoyed, and to top it off, she had a pounding headache and no wand to alleviate it. Trust Hermione Granger to leave her wand in her purse, sitting somewhere in the coat room. Damn.

"My father worked countless years before his death-"

"My father, my father, _my father_," interrupted Hermione, turning her attention back on Draco. "Oh give it up, Malfoy. Pardon my callousness and insensitivity, but Lucius Malfoy is dead. And, if memory serves me right, it was _you_ who seemed most pleased by the fact."

With the grace of a Malfoy and the anger inherent in said family as well, Malfoy was nose-to-nose with Hermione in three easy strides. His breath came out in pants, from the obvious strain in keeping in keeping his temper in check, and his eyes were charcoal, almost black with anger. His whole posture screamed "ANGRY MALFOY, BACK OFF."

But Hermione, true to the lion that symbolized her old Hogwart's house and her naturally stubborn self, stood eye-to-eye with him as well, not once flinching or backing down.

"This is the biggest deal ever to pass through Malfoy Industries. So much time, devotion, and hard work has been put into this endeavor by not only myself, but Lucius as well. Years upon years were spent perfecting this deal, trying desperately to get Monsieur Deville to just take a look at it. And now that he not only looked at it but agreed to the terms as well, you want me to throw all this away for the sake of a few employees who, more likely than not, will be back on their feet in around a month's time?"

She narrowed her eyes and rolled them, obviously annoyed by Draco's lack of understanding.

"Look at you," she said after awhile, throwing her arms up and walking away from him. She took a few steps towards the door but turned around and walked right back up to him. With a finger pointed directly in his face, she proceeded. "You say your father was the most horrific man ever, that you're embarrassed to share the same last name as that filth. You tell yourself, and everyone around you, that you're nothing like Lucius Malfoy, that you never EVER want to be like him. Yet here you are, _still_ proving yourself to a dead man, a man who once long before lived the life of a ruthless businessman but died a heartless monster." She stopped to catch her breath, her tirade leaving her just a bit winded. "Nothing has changed Malfoy. You're still daddy's boy; the same little spoilt jerk I went to school with, the same boy doing anything and everything to prove his worth to Lucius Malfoy. _Nothing_ changed."

It was silent once again in the room, the muffled sound of the party outside drowning the heavy breathing of both Draco and Hermione. For once, Draco Malfoy was silent because, if he were being completely honest with himself, everything that Hermione had just said was completely, one hundred percent…true. And that's what made him all the more furious. Her words hit close to home; hell her words _were _home. After years of claiming to be his own person without the ties that bound him to his father, Draco realized that he had been living the life laid out for him by Lucius, sans the evil Death Eater thing. The reason why he was so adamant in his push for this deal was because his father worked so hard for it, only to die never accomplishing the goal. No, he wasn't Lucius, but even in death, his father had a hold on him.

Hermione closed her eyes and took two steadying breaths before reopening her chocolate brown eyes. She thought things were different, she had hoped they were too; but it all seemed to be the same. She turned her back on him, without a word, and began walking towards the door. Arms length from her destination, Draco's words halter her progress.

"_Don't_ tell me nothing has changed," he finally spoke out, his anger evident in his tone. "Don't tell me I'm the same person I was back at Hogwarts. Don't tell me I'm Lucius Malfoy."

She didn't turn around; she didn't move or dare speak a work.

"Don't tell me that this _thing_ between you and I is animosity," he continued. So caught up was he in his emotions that he didn't realize that he had created a proverbial door in the proverbial wall that separated himself from Hermione. He didn't realize that he had allowed Hermione a glimpse into Draco Malfoy. "Don't tell me that we're still enemies. Don't tell me that that everything between us is just business.

A pause.

"Don't tell me that you don't feel it." He emphasized each word, making his point clear and concise.

Hermione was stunned; not by the words, but by the speaker. Days of trying to comprehend her conflicting emotions all came down to this defining moment, clarified by one Draco Malfoy. And, better yet, he was as confused as she had been. It had happened; the mechanics of the world had finally started to unravel, life had just become that much harder.

And yet, she couldn't succumb to the obvious question. She was fooled once into loving a man, and she'd be damned if it happened to her again.

Hermione turned around and stared straight into Draco's eyes, her heart pounding furiously and her emotions so clearly evident in her face. Draco wore the same mask of indifference, yet there was something different in his eyes. A sense of longing, a sense of vulnerability, a sense of hope.

"I can't," she said, with more force than she had planned. "I just can't." And with that she walked out of the room, leaving Draco standing in the middle of his office.

It didn't matter that she had walked out. Heck, it didn't even matter that he had given Christmas bonuses to his entire Ready for Wear staff. All that seemed to matter in his mind was the fact that Hermione had said "cant."

She didn't say "don't."


	14. The Best Christmas Gift

Wow. That is all I have to say. Wow, this has taken longer than expected. I am extremely sorry. I had originally decided to give this story up completely but recently I rediscovered it and just thought that I couldn't let it go; besides I couldn't leave all of you hanging like that. So I'm back and I PROMISE that my other chapter will come out A LOT sooner than this one did; I am currently mid-way thru its completion. I can't believe how long ago I last updated; so much has changed since then. Again, I apologize profusely and I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. Enough of my rambling, on with the show…

**Chapter 14 The Best Christmas Gift**

"Merry Christmas, Malfoy family!"

Hermione grimaced as Blaise waltzed through the living room, immaculate as always, spreading merriment and greeting to everyone around. In contrast, it was starting out to be a very un-Merry Christmas for Hermione. Spending Christmas day with Draco Malfoy was not something she had ever wished for nor dreamed of.

The lingering thoughts of the fight from the day before didn't help the merriment, or lack thereof, either. After storming out of the room, with the words "I can't" ringing through her head, Hermione immediately flooed out of the building and into her apartment. All day, Draco's words and her response occupied her thoughts, playing with her emotions and toying with her hope. _Hope for what?_ she wondered. Hope for something she wasn't ready to admit.

She refused to believe his words, refused to believe his motive. _He would never, he could never…_unfinished thoughts and unanswered questions plagued her thoughts, driving her further and further into hysteria. Why me? Why him? Why?

And she chastised herself for the response she gave him.

"_I can't" _

It wasn't what she wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, tell him that he'd be one righteous bloke to assume she felt that way. But she had said it because she DID feel it, she just couldn't possibly put herself through that again—especially with Draco Malfoy. But that's what scared her, the fact that she felt that way. It was too much for her; she had hoped, even prayed, after Oliver that she'd never feel like this again. She had hardened her heart to men and love, so then how was it that her childhood enemy could easily change everything? It wasn't love; no, she knew it wasn't. But it was a lot like it.

And the fact that he felt it too, that was something entirely different.

For Draco, he opted to just forget about the whole situation. Or forget about it as hard as he could at least. For awhile after Hermione had left he stayed in his office, thinking over everything that had happened. Just like Hermione, the words "I can't" rang clear in his mind. He didn't know what exactly he had tried to accomplish with his words; he half expected Hermione to slap him and call him a chauvinistic pig. But she didn't. From the two last words she uttered it was apparent that she felt it. And _that_ surprised him. He had anticipated everything else, but he never expected her to return the feelings.

They hadn't seen each other since the encounter. For once it seemed like the gods were working with them instead of against; they didn't even have to try to avoid each other, it just seemed to happen naturally. Dinners were taken separately and beds made up in different rooms of the manor. It was perfect for the two, until the next morning of course.

Hermione was sitting on one of the couches, cup of hot chocolate in hand, watching her daughter as she scrambled through all the gifts and presents beneath the tree. Monsieur Deville sat next to her, laughing as little Ana happily tore through numerous amounts of gift wrapping. Draco stood idly by, just close enough to keep up the family facade for Monsieur Deville.

"What's the matter Malfoy family?" asked Blaise as he strolled past Hermione and patted Draco on the back. "Come on, where's the Christmas spirit?"

"I've always wondered," Draco started as Blaise took up a seat next to Ana on the floor, "how in Voldemort's name do you always manage to get in here?"

"If I told you that, then I'd have to kill you," he responded nonchalantly while he laid out more presents for Ana to open.

"How does your wife put up with you, Blaise?" Hermione asked, chuckling, setting down a mug of hot chocolate in front of the dark haired wizard.  
"With a smile," he responded as he graciously took the cup and sipped the warm contents.

More gifts were opened and more hot chocolate made. Draco and Hermione had not said a word to each other nor tried to make any eye contact either. It was tense, but only for the two of them; for everyone else, everything seemed almost normal. Christmas morning carried on peacefully, with no squabble or banter from either Draco or Hermione. Despite the given situation, Christmas turned out alright.

"Ana really likes her presents"

Draco turned around to find Hermione behind him, walking forward with a mug in hand. He was standing in the doorway, watching as Blaise and Ana happily played with her new toys while Monsieur Deville looked on merrily. Hermione had gone upstairs to phone her parents and her friends.

She saw him standing there as she descended the stairs. She had wanted to just walk by, without a word or gesture of recognition. But she had decided differently. Hermione Granger, the brave and level-headed third of the infamous trio, shying away from adversity? Unheard of. She summed up all her courage, locked away yesterday's questions and confusion, and spoke.

"Yeah," he responded stiffly, turning back to the scene in front of him. He was vividly aware of her presence next to him, unwavering and standing strong. "I'm glad she does."

Silence followed, awkward silence. Neither really knew how to react.

"Look Malfoy about yesterday-,"

"Are you sure she likes the dolls?" he interrupted her. "They aren't too childish are they?"

Hermione was mildly taken aback at how easily Draco had changed the subject. He didn't want to talk about the day before, of course he didn't. And that was fine for Hermione; better, even, for her. She smiled, a genuine smile, and nodded.

"There's so much 'adult' in that little girl," she said, "more so than in me sometimes. But with all her maturity and sensibility, she's still just a little girl."

Draco smirked, nodding his agreement to Hermione's statement.

"Malfoy I'm surprised you actually knew what to get her," she added, with no sign of malice or mockery in her voice or appearance.

Draco turned to her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Well, I was a child once. Granted I know I didn't have what you fondly call a 'typical childhood,' but I had one nonetheless."

"I didn't mean it like that," she chuckled and shook her head. "You know what I mean, you oaf."

With that, the intensity from the day before vanished and everything seemed to go back to normal, as normal as things were before.

"It worked," Draco responded moments later, staring out at Monsieur Deville and Ana. She was showing Deville all her presents and teaching him how to properly hold her doll; the elder man let out a hearty laugh as he played along with her. "Bloody hell I can't believe it worked."

"Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, one of Hogwart's greatest rivalries, would play family so convincingly?" Hermione smiled as she too watched the scene in front of her.

"Oh come now Granger," Draco responded with a smirk and the haughty air that he was infamous for. "You of all people should know that we've surely outgrown that 'Hogwarts rivalry' stage of our lives. We're not children anymore."

She turned to him and smiled. _No we're definitely not_ she thought, memories of the past few weeks running through her head. It had been crazy, demanding, luxurious, emotionally straining; yet she, in all honesty, wouldn't have had it any other way. It was a far cry from a vacation, what with being forced to spend a whole month with the Slytherin King and all; but he was right, they had surely outgrown their Hogwarts rivalry. To her surprise, Draco was bearable; a little crazy and egotistical, but not nearly as horrible as she had previously remembered him to be. Unknowingly, and surely inadvertently, he had helped her; the bruises on her heart were beginning to heal and Oliver Wood was almost, not entirely, a thing of the past. Hermione realized that all she really needed was to talk, honestly, openly, without judgment or looks of pity to anyone other than Ron, Ginny, Harry, or her parents. Draco was it. Maybe it was the holiday season, or maybe it was because of their forced proximity; whatever it was, he was there when she needed someone, anyone. Hermione knew, though, that if it had been any other guy she would've felt the exact same way. But she was glad it was Draco.

Silence engulfed them once again as they watched the merriment before them.

"Well," Blaise's booming voice cut through the room. At once, all eyes were on him. "Look what we have here." The smirk on his face and the sing-song tone in his voice didn't bode well for the two. He pointed upwards, staring directly at Hermione and Draco.

Hermione looked up, her worse fears suddenly made into reality: mistletoe. Draco hadn't even bothered to look; even before his friend's gesture, he already knew. And he was none too pleased about it.

They looked at each other; silent questions acknowledged, yet remained unanswered. They didn't know what to do; all throughout the facade, they had never been required to do anything more than an occasional hug or hand holding. And now they were expected to kiss. Under the mistletoe. On Christmas morning.

Monsieur Deville spoke. "Oh come now," he chuckled. "There's no need for you two to be shy. Monsieur Malfoy, you and are you're wife are so much in love. Don't be shy." He winked at them and smiled, urging them to show just a little more affection towards each other.

They kept eye contact, not once breaking. They were suspended in time, frozen in front of questioning eyes, standing under mistletoe. This really wasn't happening, was it? There was definitely no way out of it, yet neither was willing to make the first move.

A million different thoughts raced through Draco's mind, the deal, the farce marriage, the fight from the day before, Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. He could hear his father's cold voice, interrupting all thoughts of everything else. 'That Mudblood beat you again, Draco? Not good. Malfoy's are never second best.' _Not now_. 'What's this? A Malfoy has feelings for a Mudblood?' Draco could practically see his father, in all his Malfoy arrogance and pride, standing in front of him, spitting out the word "feelings". _Fight or flight, Malfoy_, his subconscious kept saying. _What's it going to be? _It had always been his father, Draco had never been able to form his own thoughts, feel his own feelings, live his own life. Would he walk away now, like he had done on so many various occasions in his life? Or would he stay and fight, against Oliver, against his father, against his past? Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight…

Hermione stood there, staring at Draco. She couldn't read him; his grey eyes were raging a storm. He showed no emotion; his eyes cloudy with thoughts Hermione could barely read. He was looking at her, but he couldn't see her. And good thing too. She made no effort of hiding her emotions; doubt, fear, and uncertainty resonated from her almond colored eyes. She was scared, and damn well had reason to be. Oh she had kissed men of course; there had been a few, before and after Oliver. She was no expert, mind you, but she certainly knew what she was doing. And she definitely was never as nervous as she was at that moment. But this? No, this was different; it was personal, real even, much more than she had ever wanted it to be.

_This is insane_, she thought. _This isn't real_._ We can't do this…I can't-_

And suddenly it happened. Warm lips descended onto hers, soft and gentle. Butterflies formed in her stomach, a knot tightened in her throat, she released a breath she didn't even know she was holding. He wasn't demanding or forceful; his kiss was tender, uncertain and full of nervous energy. It was so foreign yet it felt comforting, like a warm fire during a snow storm; safe, soothing, home. There was nothing sexual about the kiss, no lust or desire from either one of them. But it was hope; hope for something new, something different, something better.

_Fight_, Draco thought, feeling the weight of his father's influence finally lifted off his shoulders. _I'm fighting damn it and there's nothing that that heartless bastard can do about it. It's my turn_.

"I hate you!" And it all stopped; Hermione and Draco came crashing back to earth at the sound of Ana's shrill voice and near hysteric sobbing. "I hate you," she repeated, in between tears and hiccups.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her little face was tinged pink with frustration. Tears were streaming down her face and her hands were balled in fists beside her. She repeated the mantra as Hermione, followed by Draco, ran to her.

"No!" Ana yelled as Hermione, worry splashed across her face, squatted down to give her daughter a hug. "No!"

"Ana love-" Draco started, attempting to calm the little girl down

Ana shot daggers at him, her eyes still wet with fresh tears. If it had been a different situation, a more pleasant situation perhaps, he would have commented on Ana's surreal likeness to Hermione at that moment.

"Stop it," she spit back at him.

Blaise and Monsieur Deville stood back, allowing the family to resolve the issue on hand. They stayed out of the argument and just watched as everything unraveled.

"Ana, you have no right to act this way," Hermione chastised her daughter, reprimanding her while holding back tears. Her daughter was acting very unusual, and it terrified her.

She glared at both of them, her tears finally subsiding. She wiped her nose with the sleeve of her pajamas and straightened herself.

With a firm stare and a steady voice, she walked right up to Draco and said "You're not my daddy." And with that she ran out of the room, up the stairs and into her bedroom.

The whole room was engulfed with silence; Monsieur Deville stood shocked, confusion plainly visible on his tired face. Blaise stared at Monsieur Deville, analyzing the different emotions passing through the old man's face. Hermione glanced back at the trio of men behind her and, without a word to any of them, ran towards the direction of her daughter.

"Hermione," Draco said, grabbing her arm before she was fully out of reach.

"Don't," she turned towards him, suppressed tears now falling freely down her face. "Don't." And with that she bolted up the stairs and headed straight for her daughter's room.

"Bugger," Blaise swore beneath his breath, knowing that the tightly woven strings that kept the whole farce together were now unraveling; Monsieur Deville would now surely know of their deceit.

Almost abruptly, Draco turned and headed in the same direction as well, without a single word or gesture.

"Draco," called Blaise to his friend. No response; the blonde Malfoy just continued walking. "Draco," he called out again. Nothing. Blaise rolled his eyes and jogged after him.

"Malfoy, you bloke," he said, grabbing his arm and turning him towards to him. Draco had a blank look about him, an almost cold and heartless quality to it.

"Let me go," he ground out through clenched teeth. He attempted to shrug off Blaise's hold, but to no avail. He felt sick, physically sick like he was about to vomit. This was all too much; he had to get out of the manor. Anywhere, he didn't care. His mind was too muddled with thoughts to think coherently about Monsieur Deville and the deal that he ultimately just ruined.

"Malfoy we have a situation at hand to resolve," Blaise responded, cocking his head towards Monsieur Deville who was watching the entire exchange with confusion and a bit of frustration.

Finally Draco broke free of Blaise's grasp.

"I don't care," he spit out, heading towards the front door. He grabbed his coat, wand in hand of course, draped it over his shoulders and turned back to look at Blaise. "Deal with it."

And with that, he was out of the door and into the cold Christmas morning.

"Bloody hell!" Blaise roared, momentarily forgetting about Monsieur Deville. Instantly, he turned towards the older man, and with cheeks tinged pink he apologized. "So sorry," he began to walk towards him now, dreading the ultimate conversation to come. It was only fitting that he, Blaise Zabini, would be the one to break the news to Monsieur Deville; after all, this whole debacle was his idea.

"So," he started, now standing directly in front of the older gentleman. Monsieur Deville crossed his arms, mildly glaring at the raven haired man. Oh he was angry all right but confusion, and a bit of worry, surpassed all his disagreeable feelings.

"Lover's quarrel?" Blaise offered meekly, shrugging his shoulders and avoiding all eye contact with the older man.

Monsieur Deville cleared his throat, his eyes now boring holes into Blaise.

"Fine," Blaise said, a defeated tone laced in his voice. He let out a sigh, half frustration and half relief. They moved to the couch, settling in as Blaise braced himself for the long and elaborate explanation that was soon to follow. "Fine. It all started out…"

* * *

"Wood, you insufferable git!" Draco Malfoy's voice boomed through the flat, his incessant knocking stirring the quidditch player from his light nap.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy," Oliver responded groggily, as he stood up and walked towards the door. As soon as he opened the door, a raging Draco stormed through and pinned Oliver against the wall.

"What is your-"

"Shut up," Malfoy spat out, his face within centimeters of the other man's. He pushed the man further up against the wall, his eyes nearly black from all the emotions and anger. He was breathing heavily; he looked about ready to burst. And frankly, Oliver Wood was terrified.

"Shut up," he began again. "If I hear that you've hurt them again, I will come after you. I will ruin your _pathetic_ little life; your quidditch career, your personal life, _everything_. If they ever feel an ounce of pain again, Azkaban be damned. I will-"

"Malfoy, you prick, what are you on about?" Oliver interrupted. He pushed the blonde haired wizard away from him, straightening his clothes and staring intently at him. Yes he was angry, a visit from a raging Malfoy would put any wizard or witch in a sour mood, but more than that he was baffled and a bit intrigued as well.

"You heard me," Draco hissed. He straightened his robes, his glaring eyes never once leaving the Quidditch star. His breaths came in rough and ragged, his nose flaring ever so slightly with every exhale. He was doing his damn best to keep the raging storm at bay.

"Yes Malfoy I heard you loud and clear, but what's it to you?" Oliver questioned.

"Nothing," he lied. "Absolutely nothing."

They stayed there for what must have been ages, staring at one another, neither backing down from the unspoken challenge. _Stupid_, Draco cursed himself. _Bloody stupid_. A million and one emotions were raging through his body: anger, confusion, defeat. For the life of him he couldn't remember how he suddenly appeared in front of Oliver Wood's apartment door. He didn't understand why Ana's outburst bothered him so much; or even why he threatened to all but kill Oliver if he ever hurt Hermione and Ana again. It was all so different, so new; he let his emotions get the best of him and look where it led him. At Wood's apartment. Bloody brilliant.

"When can I see them?" Oliver broke the silence in the room, his voice low and weary. He was tired of all this, of Draco Malfoy, of carrying the weight of his stupid decision, of being so close, of everything; he just wanted a chance to make it right again. He wanted the nightmares of days past to stop haunting him, he wanted to feel alive again; he wanted Hermione. _If she'll take you back_, his subconscious mocked.

Malfoy remained silent, not knowing what to say or what to do next. Then he turned around and headed for the fireplace.

"Malfoy," Oliver followed suite, walking a step or two behind him. "Look I'm done with your stupid games." He grabbed the blonde wizard's arm, turning Draco around towards him. Both men were glaring, ready for the punches that were they were almost certain would follow.

"Get in the fireplace," Draco forced through gritted teeth. "Get in the fireplace right now Wood before I do something that you and I will both regret."

Rather than adding flame to the fire, Oliver did as the other man requested, nay demanded, and stepped in. Draco inhaled deeply, trying to keep his emotions from taking over, and stepped in right after. He grabbed a familiar powder, grunted out "Malfoy Manor," and in a flash both men were gone.

They flooed into Draco's study within mere seconds. Instantly, Draco plopped down at his desk and poured himself a glass of scotch. He traded between holding his head between his hands and taking sips of the amber colored liquid. His head was throbbing, he didn't want to deal with any of it anymore.

"Where are they?" Oliver spoke.

Draco didn't even bother to look at the other man. "You have legs Wood, go find them."

"This is a bloody manor!" he exclaimed. "It will take me hours to find them in here."

"How is that my problem?" Draco drawled. He took another sip of his scotch as he finally looked up.

Oliver rolled his eyes, turning away from the desk and towards the door. "Insufferable arsehole," he said under his breath as he walked out of the study, shutting the door behind him.

And then Draco was alone.

* * *

He was silently cursing Draco and the Malfoy family in general when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. The bedroom door straight ahead was wide open; a visibly shaken Hermione sitting on the floor, cradling Ana, was the sight that greeted him. She was stroking her daughter's blonde curls, soothing the little girl. He could clearly see the distress in Hermione's face as she held their daughter close, kissing her forehead and whispering words to make Ana smile. It was beautiful, truly magical; with every move Hermione made, Oliver's heart beat harder and faster. She was more beautiful than he last remembered and Ana, oh she was so much more than he ever imagined. His heart wrenched for the little girl, his decisions of years past coming back and making itself ever-present in the form of his five year old daughter; all the years that he had missed were right in front of him. And Hermione, beautiful Hermione. He didn't deserve her, he was well aware of it, but he had to try. He wasn't going to walk away again; no, he learned his lesson and he'd be damned if he were to ever hurt the two again.

And then she looked up. Her eyes locked with his, blue on brown, piercing holes into each other. Her brown orbs widened with shock and surprise and his with anguish and uncertainty. _I'm sorry_ his piercing blue eyes seemed to plead, _so sorry_.

_This can't be happening_ her mind reeled. She was breathing heavily, her heart pounding louder and faster within her chest. She was on the verge of hysterics, minus the crying, and felt as if the whole world around her just suddenly stopped. The past came rushing back, everything from their first kiss to the last goodbye, the pain so fresh within her. Her heart broke a million times over with every minute they spent staring at each other, the pain inside nearly unbearable. She would've fainted if it wasn't for her daughter.

Sensing the sudden tension and the rapid increase of her heartbeat, Ana turned to Hermione. "Mummy," she spoke softly, worry clearly present in the little girl's face. She turned to where her mother was staring and saw a man she had never seen before in her life, but who looked increasingly familiar, standing a few meters away.

Her mother broke out of her reverie and pulled herself together. She turned her daughter's attention towards her and whispered softly in her ear.

"Mummy loves you, ok? Be a good girl and play with your new toys. I'll be back soon." Her daughter nodded as she slid off her lap and ran towards the pile of dolls and stuffed animals.

All the while Oliver's eyes had never lifted from Hermione. He watched as she slowly stood from the floor, her eyes once again locking with his. He breathed harder as she walked towards him, closing the door behind her. His heart skipped a beat as she came within arm's distance to him.

"Hermione," he whispered.

And she slapped him, hard. Pain and anger washed away the shock and surprise; she was left with a broken heart and a personal vendetta.

"That's for Ana," she said maliciously, her nostrils flaring. Years of pent up anger suddenly had their chance to break free.

"I deserve that," he looked defeated and broken. "I'm sor-"

She slapped him again, this time harder than the first. The sting of the slap coursed through his whole body, the pink handprint visible on his pale cheek. Tears were slowly streaming down her face; her breathing became ragged and forced.

"That's for me," she croaked out, her reserve slowly breaking.

"Hermione," he tried again.

Her arm went up to slap him a third time but he caught it swiftly this time around. She struggled to break free from his grasp, but he just held on tighter. _I'm not letting you go this time_ he thought as his tears silently fell. The more she struggled, the harder he held her.

She pounded against his chest with her left arm, her sobs engulfing her body now. Pain coursed through every part of her body, she felt physically sick and weak. How could this be happening? The strings that held her life together were slowly unraveling; Oliver Wood was back. She pounded harder, cursing him through her tears.

He couldn't feel it, none of it. All he felt was the guilt in his heart and the anguish from Hermione. He was so stupid, so bloody stupid. Suddenly he realized that he would trade every Quidditch trophy, every magazine cover, every adoring fan, everything if it meant that he could still call Hermione his. He would give up his entire world for a retake, to be able to pick correctly, to make the right decision, to undo the damage. _To hell with Quidditch_.

She fell into his arms then, her sobs racking her body. He held her tight, crying along with her as they fell to the floor clinging onto to one another.

They sat there for a few minutes to let their tears subside and allow the shock of the moment really sink in. And then she started yelling. They fought, yelled, called each other appalling names, and shed a tear or two in between. Hermione was so distraught with emotions that she was unable to contain herself; every single emotion that she had been feeling for the past four years, from depression and sorrow to anger and regret, all spilled out of her mouth. She cursed him for leaving her, for leaving their daughter, for choosing what he did, for not returning sooner; she was a babbling mess, but her words pierced Oliver straight through the heart.

He could do nothing but listen and weep silently to himself; she wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise, and besides what could he really say? He had realized early on that a simple apology would not suffice, but he had to try. He held her closely and tried desperately to calm the angry witch. A steady stream of whispered "I'm sorry, so sorry" escaped his lips, not feeling like he could say or do anything else. He just wanted to make it better.

"Mummy," Ana's little voice broke through the screaming and yelling. Her eyes were watering, instinctively feeling the pain that her mother must have felt. Hermione straightened out then, untangling herself from Oliver and wiping the tears from her eyes as best she could. Her daughter ran to her then, tears now flowing freely from her eyes.

"Shh don't cry, love," she whispered, picking up her daughter.

Oliver just stared at the two with shock and awe; he hadn't seen his daughter since she was a one and now she was a beautiful little five year old. His heart ached at the thought of this—how many firsts had he missed? He was a complete stranger to his own daughter; knowing Hermione, he knew that she hadn't mentioned him to Ana. And who could blame her really? It was a god-awful thing that he did and his daughter didn't deserve to feel abandoned and unloved by her father.

Ana wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her pajamas. She looked at the man in front of him and Oliver just nearly lost it. She was definitely Hermione's daughter, no doubt about that, but so much of her was him as well. They had the same eyes and nose, her hair color was a mix of both her parents and her facial structure was very much his. It was so unreal for him, to be standing so close to Hermione and Ana after such a long absence.

"Who are you?" Ana asked bluntly. Hermione could see the pain in Oliver's eyes, the knowledge that his daughter had no idea that he was her father was probably killing him inside.

Hermione's heart pounded nervously; this was it, the moment of truth. She knew that she couldn't keep the identity of her father a secret from Ana her entire life, but she wasn't ready to face it so soon. How could she tell her? Where would she even begin? Mustering up all her courage she finally spoke.

"We've got a lot to discuss," she said, turning around and heading back into Ana's room. Oliver, still silent after all that had occurred, followed them into the bedroom.

* * *

A slight knock at the door stirred Draco from his thoughts. Hermione, Oliver and Ana appeared in front of him, bags packed and ready to go. Oliver and Ana smiled happily at one another, laughing and just enjoying each other's company; Hermione held a strained smile on her face, a façade of happiness. She looked run down and tired, but she was holding it together for the sake of her daughter.

Hermione nudged Ana forward; the little girl ran to Draco, threw her arms around his neck, and gave him a tight hug.

"I'm sorry Mr.Malfoy," she apologized. "I don't really hate you."

Draco chuckled softly at her sincerity and innocence. He patted her back and untangled her arms from around his neck. He held her hand and walked her to around his desk, letting her go to run back to her father and mother. _Father_. It took everything in him to not scowl or curse Oliver Bloody Wood.

Said father walked up to Draco then. He stared blankly at the Slytherin and held a hand out, as if to thank the other man and shake his hand. Draco merely glared at him, arms crossed indignantly over his chest. With just a cool stare, he easily reminded the Quidditch star of his threats from earlier on. Oliver clenched his outstretched hand, pursed his lips, and nodded lightly.

Hermione just looked at him, not knowing really how to go about with this goodbye. She nodded curtly to him, he following her actions; his eyes were cool and dark, unreadable to Hermione. She didn't want to think of their fight from the day before or the kiss from earlier; she was too tired to think or feel much of anything at that moment.

With suitcases in hand, the family turned away from the silver haired man and headed towards the fireplace. Right as Oliver and Ana stepped in, Hermione turned back to look at Draco. He was leaning against his desk, staring idly at the carpet beneath his feet.

"You two floo ahead," she said to the pair. She let go of her daughter's hand and smiled weakly at Oliver. "I'll follow in a few minutes." The two grabbed a pinch of powder and flooed out of Malfoy Manor and into Hermione's flat.

"So it went well then," it was more of a statement than a question. She turned back to look at the other man. Now what?

"Thank you," she said softly moments later. Draco shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant as ever. She walked slowly towards him. "Thank you," she repeated more firmly this time, grabbing his hand and squeezing gently. He looked at her this time as his lip curled into what must have been a half smile.

"Don't mention it," and he was being serious. He had no desire of ever speaking about this failed marriage proposition again. What was he thinking? That this whole _thing_ would actually work? Frankly, it was rather embarrassing to think that this marriage would actually be believable.

"You definitely are one of a kind, Malfoy," she chuckled to herself and shook her head.

He smirked at her. "Well of course," he responded in his usual arrogant air. "We Malfoys are truly something special."

"Arse," she hit him playfully on the arm. It was unbelievable to think of Hermione and Draco's current relationship; in a matter of a few short weeks it had transformed into something akin to friendship. "You are arrogant, childish, bratty, insufferable, and annoying; you are still so much like your old Hogwarts self. And yet there's something so entirely different about you, so much better than what you once were. Thank you for opening up to me," she smiled her and looked down, a bit embarrassed of the amount she was telling him. "It's the best Christmas present I've received in a long time."

"Likewise Granger," he smirked. "Especially the bratty and annoying bit." Her head shot up, her eyes slightly peeved and indignant. He wore his classic smirk and winked at her. She smiled lightly at his joke; a few weeks ago she would have angrily flooed out of the Manor, but they were above that now. No more petty childish antics.

"You've raised a wonderful child, Granger," he added. "You both deserve happiness."

Silence. The air was heavy with awkward tension and…and what?

"I should go," she choked. _Keep it together Granger_ her mind reprimanded. A rush of feelings and emotions swept through her; she had to get out fast, before she'd get lost within it.

She hurriedly turned around and headed for the fireplace. A firm hand stopped her from moving forward, turning her back around and bringing her a little closer to him.

They stared at each other for a bit, unsure of what to say or how to react. He suddenly raised his hand to her cheek, a battle raging within him. His grey eyes were stormy, his face expressionless. Hermione held her breath, a slight pink tinge forming on her cheeks. He moved his hand to the back of her head, her brown curls entwined within his long slender fingers. She closed her eyes then and breathed deeply, accepting whatever happened next. He pulled her to him, and kissed her gently on the forehead. His lips lingered a bit before he pulled away and rested his chin atop her head.

"Apparate, Hermione," he whispered softly.

She pulled away and looked him sternly in the eyes, as if he had just gone crazy. And he may have just done that. If she remembered correctly, no one other than a Malfoy, not even Blaise Zabini, was allowed to apparate into or out of Malfoy property. That's just not what Malfoys _did_; trust came hard for them, it just wasn't in their nature to trust a non Malfoy enough to grant them that special access. And if Hermione had heard right, Draco Malfoy had just allowed her that privilege.

She smiled up at him as it suddenly dawned on her: he trusted her. She was speechless, her eyes expressing everything she was unable to voice.

"Merry Christmas Hermione Granger," Draco started, his trademark smirk ever present as she pushed slightly away from him. She smiled, a true genuine smile. _No_, she thought, _**this**__ is the best Christmas gift I've received_.

"Merry Christmas Draco," she responded as she apparated out of the Manor.

And for the second time that night, Draco Malfoy was left alone in his study.


End file.
